Frozen
by OrangeLlyan
Summary: Waking up in the woods in the middle of a blizzard was never a good thing. But it did leave Tim and Tony with a lot of questions. What had happened? Where were they and how had they had gotten there? Why would someone dump them in the middle of nowhere and who was trying to kill them this time? And just what did it have to do with their dead marine?
1. Out in the Cold

Waking up in the woods in the middle of a blizzard was never a good thing. But it did leave Tim and Tony with a lot of questions. What had happened? Where were they and how had they had got there? Why someone would dump them in the middle of nowhere and who was trying to kill them this time? And just what did it have to do with their dead marine?

To find out, Tim and Tony will have to use all their wits to survive the elements, evade their attacker and find their way back to civilization, assuming that Gibbs doesn't find them first.

 _A/N: This story is set in season 10 sometime between You Better Watch Out and Shiva and told from multiple points of view. It's primarily told from Tim and Tony's point of view but Gibbs and Ziva have their fair share of chapters. Whoever is the last character mentioned will indicate which perspective will be used in the next chapter._

 _There's a total of 19 chapters and the story is complete so I'll do my best to post frequently. Although with the holidays, I can't promise that I'll post every day._

* * *

"McGee."

He slowly started to wake. He wasn't sure where he was but his senses told him that there was something strange with his predicament. He was aware of two things: that he was cold and covered with feathers.

Feathers?

He had no idea why he might be covered with feathers – that was certainly odd.

He wanted to brush them away but he couldn't seem to lift his hands. It felt as if they were made of lead. Was he restrained? Was this Abby's idea of a prank? Or worse, was it Tony's idea of a prank?

"McGee," the voice said again. He wasn't sure whose voice it was but it sounded concerned. And it was male. This was getting weirder by the second. He really needed to open his eyes and figure out what the heck was going on. "Come on, man. Wake up. You need to wake up." Tony. The voice belonged to Tony and he was shaking his shoulder. "Tim. I'm serious."

Tony used his first name. It really _must_ be serious.

Groaning, he managed to force his hand to his face. That simple task was far more difficult than it should have been. Focusing on moving his leaden hands, he wiped away the feathers before opening his eyes. Waking up to the concerned face of Anthony DiNozzo was enough to worry him but it was made worse by the sight of bare trees wreathed in snow above Tony's head.

He hadn't been covered in feathers. It had been snowflakes. He was outside lying in the snow.

"About time there, Tim," Tony said, relieved. "How do you feel?"

He sat up with Tony's help. He was freezing, his head hurt like hell and he was confused. "I've had better days," he replied finally.

"Well, yeah, I figured that much," Tony replied as he looked him in the eyes. "How's your vision?"

"If you're thinking 'concussion,' then you're probably right. But there's only one of you," he replied.

"That's a start," Tony replied. "Can you stand?"

"We'll find out," he replied as he stood up. His head spun and he wasn't very stable on his feet but he managed to stay upright. He took a deep breath to steady himself and felt the frigid air sear his lungs. It was oddly bracing and painful at the same time.

He looked around. They were in the middle of the woods and it was snowing like crazy. He had no idea how they got there. His memory was fuzzy and full of holes. It had something to do with the Dunning case, he was sure of it, but he didn't know how or why they were in the boonies.

His phone had a GPS program on it. He would be able to use it to figure out where they were and how to get back to civilization. Reaching into his pocket, he didn't find his phone where he expected it. He quickly searched his other pockets but didn't find it. In the process of looking for his phone, he realized that he didn't have his weapon either.

"My phone and weapon are gone too," Tony said. "And whoever dumped us out here took my knife too." He checked for his knife and found it was missing as well. Tony looked around. He followed his partner's gaze but he didn't see anything that would tell him where they were or how they had come to this place.

He looked around. They were near the top of a rise so he started up the slope until they reached the top of the hill. He looked around but he couldn't see much. They were at the top of a small hill but they were surrounded by taller mountains. Between the mountains and the tall trees, he couldn't see much of anything.

"I don't see anything," Tony said.

"Me neither," he replied with a frown. "Not even a cell tower."

"You know more about the woods than me. What do we do now?" Tony asked.

He looked around. There didn't seem to be a discernable path through the trees and he didn't see any tracks that would tell him how they had arrived in the middle of the woods. The snow had obliterated any tracks that could lead them back to civilization.

He looked down each side of the mountain and picked the direction that seemed to have the easiest path to traverse. "We start walking, Tony," he said as he started walking down slope. Based on the landscape, he would guess that there was a stream.

He knew that the worst thing that could happen to them would be for them to walk in circles. With the snow, the landscape all looked the same and their trail would be obliterated in no time. They had to pick one direction and follow it.

With this terrain, the easiest way to make sure that you weren't going in circles in the woods was to follow a stream. It would never double back on itself and at some point, it would probably cross a road, which they could follow to civilization or flag down some help.

Tony nodded and followed him. After a few minutes, he paused to wrap his scarf around his face. Tony followed suit and when he was done, they started off again.

After only fifteen minutes of walking through the deep snow, Tony asked, "So, got any bright ideas how to get out of this, McGenius?"

"Well not stopping sounds like a good idea right about now," he replied as they struggled through the deepening snow. There was already a good base that was at least a foot deep and due to the ever-worsening storm, at least six inches of powder on top of that. With every step they took, they sank up to their knees.

"Do you have any idea where we are right now?" Tony asked as he stopped to look around.

"I think we're still in West-by-God-Virginia," he replied sourly as he stopped and turned around to look at Tony. He looked around. He couldn't see much through the storm. He could only see bare trees perched on the steep slopes they were traversing. "Other than that, we're in the woods, in the mountains, in a blizzard. That's the best I can do right now," he said heatedly.

"I know that much," Tony retorted as he paused to collect his breath. "I don't know how we got out here though without our Sigs and cell phones. I remember Gibbs sending us to investigate Dunning's family. I remember talking to Pa Dunning and I remember walking back to the car. But that's it."

He put a hand to the back of his head and winced when he came in contact with a large goose egg. "You remember more than I do," he said as he strained to remember what had happened.

"I'm sure we talked to Jack Dunning," Tony said. "He had on that Carhartt hunting jacket with the orange shoulders. I remember thinking he was a walking West Virginia Stereotype." He nodded. He had thought that too. "I think I remember seeing Rick Dunning too. He had this ridiculous beard."

He vaguely remembered speaking with Jack Dunning about his son's death. He couldn't remember the details but he remembered thinking that Mr. Dunning was hiding something. There was only one explanation.

"I don't remember Rick Dunning, but I don't think you're wrong," he said. "We must have been ambushed and dumped out in the woods, Tony, and it would make sense if there were two doing the ambushing." Tony nodded in agreement. "Whatever the Dunnings were trying to hide, they were willing to try to kill us to keep it hidden."

"That's what I thought too. But why dump us in the woods?" Tony asked. "They could have shot us and been sure that we were actually dead."

Annoyed, he asked, "Does it really matter?" Tony didn't reply. Exasperated he said, "It's better for him if it looks like an accidental death, doesn't it? Come on, we need to find some shelter before we freeze and actually die. There are hunting cabins all throughout these mountains."

"Right," Tony replied as he rubbed his own head. "Do you even have any clue which way is the best way to go?"

"Not really," he replied as they started down the slope sliding slightly. "I'm kinda making this up as I go."

"You're kidding right?" Tony asked grabbing his arm to stop him. "You're a scout or whatever. I thought you were supposed to know how to navigate in the woods. That's why I'm following you!"

He shrugged. "Navigating in a blizzard wasn't exactly something they teach kids, Tony." He looked around. "This snow changes everything. No sun to navigate by. The snow obscures landmarks and visibility is reduced."

"So, we're just going to wander around and hope we find something?" Tony asked. He was surprised to hear a note of concern in his voice. He examined Tony. He didn't look afraid but he did seem worried.

"Unless you have a better idea?" he asked as he blew warm air onto his hands. "I looked at topographical maps of the area before we drove out here but without knowing where we are…" He trailed off. "Look. Standing around, waiting for it to get dark isn't going to help us Tony. If you're as cold as I am, you know we can't risk spending the night in the open air. We need to find a cabin or a cave. If we can't do that, we're going to have to make an igloo or something."

"Gibbs would know what to do," Tony muttered as they started walking again.

"Are you suggesting that you would rather be stuck out here with Gibbs rather than me?" he asked testily. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Tony's ribbing. He was cold, wet and his head was throbbing.

"Well yeah!" Tony replied with a grin.

"Thanks," he muttered dryly.

"Come on, McGee," Tony said seeing that he had hurt Tim's feeling. "Given the choice, you'd rather be stuck out here with Gibbs too!"

"I didn't say that Tony," he said softening.

"Well why not?" Tony asked roguishly, which caused him to relax slightly. "He's a trained marine sniper. He knows how to survive off the land and he's from the Pennsylvania mountains. He would know how to survive through weather like this," he said.

He nodded slightly. Tony did have a point. But wishing that they had Gibbs with them wouldn't do any good. Like it or not, they were on their own and they would have to do their best to survive.

"Well we're two highly trained Federal agents, Tony," he said. "We'll do our jobs."

"Somehow, I missed this part of the job description," Tony replied. "What exactly is our job in this situation other than not dying of exposure?"

"Improvising," he replied.

"Fake it until you make it?" Tony asked. He nodded. Tony shrugged. "I've come up with worse plans."

"I know," he replied. "Come on. If we follow the valley, we won't walk in circles and we might just come across a road or a cabin. I'd rather not freeze to death out here Tony."


	2. Cold Blood

_Three Days Earlier_

"The deceased is Marine Corporal Brian Dunning," Tim said as he looked at his phone. "Stationed at Quantico. He just returned from a tour in Afghanistan two weeks ago. His buddy out in the hall is PFC Eric Wysocki. They're both on block leave which is why Dunning wasn't reported UA. PFC Wysocki said that he had been trying to contact Dunning for almost two days before he asked the building manager to check in on him. They called us when they found him like that."

He looked up from his work then down at Corporal Dunning. He was laying face down, his back to the door. A pool of blood welled out from his head where he could see a gunshot just below the man's ear. A gun lay inches from his hand.

"There doesn't appear to be any signs of forced entry, Boss," he said as he examined the door. "Abby can confirm that of course."

"Then this was a suicide," Ziva said as she looked around. The apartment was undisturbed.

"Possibly," Ducky said as he entered the apartment with Jimmy in tow. He stood and moved out of the doctor's way. "But looks can be deceiving. I do apologize, Jethro but traffic was murder, so to speak."

"I didn't have any trouble getting here," Gibbs said as he looked around the apartment.

He collected the camera and joined them at the body so he could begin to take photos as Tim started to sketch the scene. While disturbing, this wasn't the most gruesome scene that he had ever seen, which was a good thing. He was beginning to think that the milk he had used on his cereal had gone bad.

Ducky chuckled as he started his exam. "Yes well, you drive like you are in the Indy five hundred and you probably pass better than those drivers, but the siren and police lights don't hurt either." Gibbs shrugged, which caused Ducky to smile. Gibbs frowned and motioned for him to continue. "No defensive wounds. Single gunshot wounded to the head just below the ear. He's in full rigor which means he's been dead for at least twelve hours."

"The last time anyone saw him was forty-eight hours ago," Gibbs said.

"Oh, I don't think that he's been dead that long," Ducky said. "His skin tone is relatively normal. If he had been dead that long, his skin tone would take on a greenish color. I would place his time of death between twelve and forty-eight hours."

"You just said that he hadn't been dead for that long," he said puzzled as he started to take photos of the body.

"True," Ducky replied. "But it is within the range. If I were to hazard a guess…"

"Hazard, Duck," Gibbs said impatiently.

"I would guess that he died around thirty hours ago but that must be confirmed once we get him home," Ducky finished.

"What else you got Duck?"

"I'd say that I just met the man and that I need more time, but I know that my protests would fall on deaf ears, Jethro," Ducky replied with a small smile. "Let's roll him over, Jimmy."

Jimmy nodded and helped Ducky roll the body onto his back. He photographed the blood pool as Jimmy looked at the wound.

"Doctor, I think that there is something odd about this gunshot wound," Jimmy said.

"How so?" Ducky asked as he looked at it. "Oh. I see."

"What is it?" Gibbs asked as he looked at the wound.

He turned and looked at Tim but his partner shrugged. With the three of them in the way, he couldn't see what they were looking at. He could, however, see Gibbs and his expression changed to a frown.

"The angle is all wrong," Jimmy said. "The trajectory is from the back to front."

"He was shot from behind," Gibbs finished.

"Quite correct," Ducky said. "Our deceased friend would have been quite contorted in order to shoot himself."

Understanding dawned on his face as he realized what they were looking at.

"This was a murder," Ziva said in conclusion as she stopped in the doorway to Dunning's bedroom.

"It appears so," Ducky said.

"That changes things," he said as he looked around the apartment in a new light. Investigating a murder was very different than a suicide.

"So, who killed him then?" Tim asked.

"And why?" he asked as he leaned down to take more photos.

"This might be a good reason," Ziva said as she entered the room with a large plastic zip top bag.

"Drugs?" Gibbs asked as he took the bag from her. She held out presumptive narcotic id test. From here, he could see that the ampule was broken, and it was blue, indicating a positive test. "Meth."

"Abby will have to confirm it but that is what the test indicates," she replied. "There is quite a lot there. I found it hidden in a shoebox in his closet. I doubt it was for his personal use."

"That's way too much for personal use," he said.

Ducky pulled down Dunning's lip to look at his teeth.

"I sincerely doubt he was a habitual user," Ducky said. "I don't see any signs of prolonged use of methamphetamines."

"A dealer then," Gibbs said. "Did you find any money?" Gibbs asked.

"No," Ziva said. "At least there was none with the drugs."

He glanced around the apartment. It looked like the standard military bachelor pad. He didn't see a lot of valuables to indicate that Corporal Dunning had a lot of extra cash to throw around.

He had a big screen television, the latest gaming system and a sound system but that was it. And these days, those items weren't luxuries, they were necessities. Dunning had a beat-up pickup truck and this apartment came furnished.

"McGee," Gibbs said. "Pull Dunning's financial records."

Tim nodded.

"Ziva, canvas this apartment building," Gibbs said. "Find out why no one reported a gunshot."

She frowned but nodded. There were at least thirty apartments in this building. It was going to take her hours to interview all the residents.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said as he handed him the bag of drugs. "Turn this place inside out."

"With pleasure, boss," he said even though he wasn't looking forward to the task.

"McGee, help DiNozzo," Gibbs said. "Dust everything for prints." McGee nodded but didn't look pleased.

Gibbs pulled out his phone and stepped into the hall to make a call.

He sighed as he stood. "This is going to be a long day."

Tim sighed as he looked around the apartment. It wasn't large but dusting the place for prints wasn't a small task.

"You can say that again, Tony."


	3. Cold War

"And I thought the day we searched Dunning's apartment was long," he said as he tried to clench his arms closer to his body. He was freezing and his feet didn't feel like they were attached to his ankles anymore. "It feels like we've been walking for ages, McGee." He glanced down at his watch. "It's only been forty-five minutes."

Tim paused and turned around to look at him. His hair and eyebrows were coated with snowflakes. He looked miserable as he tucked his hands deeper into his coat pockets.

"I'd gladly search his apartment with a pair of tweezers about now," Tim replied as they started walking again. "At least then we would be warm. Heck, I'd even take an all-night stake out right now as long as it was inside."

"How about an all-night stake out with Ziva?" he asked upping the ante. The last one he had been on with her had just about driven them both to attempted murder. Luckily their Petty Officer screwed up and returned to the scene of the crime before he had to defend himself from a homicidal assassin.

"That would be even better," Tim replied. He looked at Tim incredulously. "What? I don't antagonize her," Tim replied. "I know better than to make a bored assassin mad, Tony."

"Good point," he conceded. "I'll never learn." Suddenly he smiled. "But I can't help myself."

"I've noticed," Tim replied drolly.

"Ok," he said as he stumbled on a hidden rock. Tim reached out and caught his arm before he fell. "Thanks. So, what's worse than an all-night stake out with a pissed assassin?"

"An all-night stake out with Gibbs," Tim replied without hesitating. He looked at Tim questioningly. "At least you can talk to Ziva. Gibbs won't say anything for the whole night. Even if she's about to murder you, the conversation will still be interesting. And you just might learn something new."

"Forty ways to kill someone with a pair of binoculars?" he asked. "That is a valid point." He looked around. The landscape seemingly hadn't changed and they hadn't seen any signs of civilization. "Ok. I'll be the first to admit that I know nothing about the woods and not to snow on your parade, McScout…"

"But you're thinking that we may not be anywhere near civilization?" Tim asked as he looked out into the snow. "I was thinking the same thing."

"Yeah," he replied as he turned around to look at their trail. It was rapidly disappearing as the snowflakes fell. "How much do you know about cold weather survival?" he asked as he cast back to any cold weather survival movie he could think of. Unfortunately, the only one he could think of at the moment was _Star Wars_ and they didn't have a light saber or a furry, two-legged, horse thingie.

Tim shivered. "Not much."

"Meaning nothing," he supplied as they started walking again.

"Well I know we don't have a tauntaun, which means that if we don't find a cabin or something we'll be doing some man cuddling tonight," Tim replied.

"Figures you'd know what that thing was," he muttered.

"Figures you were thinking of a movie reference," Tim retorted. He pulled a face at his partner. "Couldn't think of a better movie, huh?" Tim asked.

"Not at the moment," he replied as he blew air into his hands to warm them.

Tim looked at him sympathetically. "Here," Tim said as he took off his gloves.

"No," he said as he tried to refuse them. "They're yours." He was touched by the sentiment and he really wanted to wear them. But the macho streak in him reared its ugly head.

"Take them," Tim said forcing the gloves into his hands. "For a little while anyway." He then thrust his hands deep into his pockets.

"Thanks," he replied as he pulled on the gloves. They were warm from Tim's hands and the heat was extremely welcome on his frozen fingers. "We're going to need to find some shelter."

"A cave would be best," Tim said as he looked around. "But if we can't find that, we're going to have to make a lean-to or an igloo." Tim glanced at his watch. "We still have a few hours of daylight though."

"Then we keep going until we have to stop," he replied. Tim nodded.

They bowed their heads as the wind picked up. He was momentarily taken off guard by the pungent scent of a wood fire. Thinking he had imagined it, he didn't say anything to Tim while they pressed onward. When the wind died down enough for him to look up, he saw a break in the trees ahead.

Reaching out, he grabbed Tim's arm. "McGee!" he said.

"What?" Tim asked as he looked up.

"Do you see what I see?" he asked excitedly.

Tim looked around for a moment before his eyes rested on the most glorious sight in the world right now.

"A cabin," Tim said.

Without another word, they hurried down the hill towards the small cabin but before they reached it, he pulled Tim to a halt. There was smoke curling up from the chimney so someone was home but there was something about that cabin that bothered him.

"What?" Tim asked. "What is it?"

He looked at his confused partner. "There's something hinky about that cabin."

"Hinky?" Tim asked, puzzled. "How can you tell from here?" he asked.

"I can tell," he replied as he cautiously spied out the cabin. "Because it's there." Tim looked confused. He put his hand to the back of his head. "We were attacked probably by Pa Dunning. Chances are we were dumped on Jack Dunning's property."

"How do you figure that?" Tim asked. "I mean, I agree it was probably Jack Dunning that attacked us but wouldn't he want to dump us on someone else's property to avoid suspicion?"

"Unless he was thinking that by dumping us on his property that he could claim he was being framed," he said with a smile. Tim clearly didn't follow his logic. Now that he thought about it, he didn't exactly follow his logic either. "Call it a gut feeling, but we've been jumped once already today. I'd rather be cautious just in case."

Tim nodded. "Good point."

"And if you see any zombies, we run like hell," he said with a grin. Tim glared at him. " _Cabin in the Woods?"_

"I know the reference," Tim replied dryly. "You know, everyone died in that movie." He felt his grin fade. "Let's hope for something more like _The Great Outdoors._ "

"John Candy. Dan Aykroyd. Comedy gold," he mused. "I'd take that."

"I'll go left," Tim said pointing. "You go right and we'll meet in the middle."

He nodded. Cautiously, he crept down the hill, careful to take a wide berth as he circled the cabin. The world was strangely hushed by the snow and he couldn't even hear the sound of his own footsteps. After a few minutes, he couldn't see McGee through the snow and trees either.

The tiny cabin sat ominously nestled between several trees with the front of the cabin overlooking the stream valley. It wasn't very large and only had two windows on either side of the door. He would bet that their area in the squad room was larger than this cabin. But it did have a chimney attached and smoke was curling out of the top of it, which meant it was warm.

And yet, there wasn't a vehicle parked near it. And as far as he could see, there wasn't a road leading to this place either. So that meant an all-terrain vehicle would be needed to access the cabin and he didn't see one, nor did he see tracks leading away from the cabin. Someone was away and they were coming back, potentially at any minute.

Sliding down the hill, he reached the rear of the cabin. There weren't any windows on this side so he leaned against the wall. He tried to listen, but he couldn't hear anything inside. Either the logs were too thick, or the occupant was gone.

Carefully he slipped around the side of the cabin towards the front. As he edged closer to the door, he saw McGee peer out from around a pile of firewood covered with a tarp. The cordwood restricted access to one of the two windows so he would have to peer inside the other.

Motioning for Tim to stop, he pointed at himself then the window.

Tim nodded and unconsciously reached for his missing Sig. If the situation had been different, he would have chided his partner for forgetting that they were unarmed. But as it was, it only served as a reminder that they were unarmed and in a very precarious position.

Carefully, he edged over to the window and peered inside. The small cabin was seemingly deserted and as he suspected, it only consisted of a single room. A small table with an unlit kerosene lamp was pushed up against the left wall and the remainder of the space contained supplies. To the right, he saw a small wood burner stove. It had a low fire in it, indicating that it had been some time since someone had last fed it.

Tony smiled. Maybe the three bears were gone and he and Timmy could help themselves to some porridge.

He was about to motion to Tim to join him when suddenly he saw movement. A ladder leaned against the wall just out of his sight. Someone was descending from the loft.

Startled, he motioned for Tim to hide just as they heard the door latch slide open.

Scrambling, he slid around the corner of the house just in time. Peering around the corner, he caught sight of a young woman. She shivered as she stepped onto the porch to collect more wood. She paused and turned in his direction, but he had already taken cover by the time she looked in his direction and thankfully the porch was free of snow, so he hadn't left footprints.

He remained hidden until he heard the door latch again.

Leaning around the corner he saw Tim doing the same. He motioned for Tim to meet him behind the cabin.

Leaving his place, he hurried to the back of the small building.

"Did you see who it was?" Tim asked as he reached Tony.

"Young woman," he replied. "I think it might have been Corporal Dunning's sister."

"His sister?" Tim asked. "So, this _is_ Jack Dunning's property."

"Yeah, and daddy is coming back at some point," he replied. "There's no road and no car and definitely no snowmobile. She didn't get out here by herself and she isn't going back to town on foot."

Tim blew air into his hands.

"So, the question is: can we trust her?" he finished.

"No, I think the question is: can we afford not to?" Tim asked.

"Well if this is Jack Dunning's cabin, then he's coming back for his daughter. And that means we can't stay here," he said. "And we don't know that she isn't involved in her brother's death. Why else is she hiding out here in the woods during a blizzard?"

"I'm not saying that we stay here Tony," Tim said as he huddled into his coat. "I'm saying that we talk to her, warm up and see if she'll help us. Hopefully she will…"

"If not?" he asked. "You plan on storming the cabin and taking what we need by force?" Tim sighed. He put his hand onto Tim's arm. "I know what you mean. Desperate times call for desperate measures."

"Doesn't mean that I like it," Tim replied sourly.

"Me neither," he replied. "I'm a lot of things but a thief and a thug aren't among them."

"Which is why I hope that she agrees to help us," Tim replied. "And we won't know that until we ask her."

He nodded. "All right. But keep your ears peeled for sounds of the Dunning clan's return."

"Deal," Tim replied.

He nodded. "Let's go, Tim."


	4. Icy Stare

_A/N: This is the last flash back I promise! From here on out, we'll be moving forward in real time._

* * *

 _Two Days Earlier_

He looked up from his computer when he heard the elevator bell. Gibbs strode out of the elevator and hurried towards his desk with not one but _two_ cups of coffee. He glanced at Tony, who had noted the double dose of caffeine as well, and tried to convey his concern. It was obvious to Tony that today might be a little rough but Ziva didn't understand their silent communication until she saw Gibbs round the corner.

Gibbs set his coffees down and removed his coat and roughly yanked his weapon off his belt before depositing it in his desk drawer. Grabbing both cups, Gibbs turned and glared at him.

Taking the hint, he clicked a few keys and brought up Corporal Dunning's records.

Standing up, he joined Gibbs at the plasma. "Brian Dunning joined the Marines right after high school at nineteen. Soared through basic and his fit reps have all been positive. His COs indicated that he was in line to make Sergeant and that he had a bright future ahead of him in the Corps."

"Seems so," Gibbs said. "What else?"

"This was his second tour overseas," Tony said. "He spent time in Wardak province for his first tour and more recently he was stationed near the Pakistani border where his unit saw heavy action. They lost two guys out of their squad and a total of seven from their platoon. There were a number of casualties as well. For his part, Dunning is up for a purple heart and a silver star for running through the line of fire to rescue two of his injured squad mates."

"His records are squeegee clean," Ziva said. "No history of drug use or any indication that he was involved in drugs."

"Squeaky," he said correcting her. "The term is squeaky clean."

"Although you would use a squeegee to get squeaky clean," Tony said before Gibbs glared him into silence.

Ziva nodded. "Ducky and Abby are running tests to confirm that he is clean of drugs."

"The neighbor claims that they tried to invite Dunning to the party that was busted," he said. "But she said that he had already agreed to meet some of his friends. He didn't say where but he did say that he might stop by after he returned home."

"No one at the party saw him," Ziva added. "Although, most of those still present were rather hung-over. I do not think that they would have remembered Dunning in any case."

"He didn't complain about the party noise?" Gibbs asked.

"Not according to the neighbor," he replied. "She said that usually he would join them when they had a party and rarely complained about noise. He was a quiet, considerate neighbor and had helped her with some minor car repairs."

"Why would he complain? His neighbors are gorgeous," Tony said with a roguish smile. Gibbs glared at him. Tony's smile faltered. "So how did a clean cut, up and coming, marine end up murdered in his apartment with a pile of drugs in his closet?" Tony asked.

"That's a good question, DiNozzo," Gibbs said pointedly. "You got any answers for me?"

Tony wilted under Gibbs' glare, which was understandable. Gibbs seemed pretty upset for so early in the morning and he obviously wasn't in the mood for Tony's wise cracks.

Clearing his throat, he came to Tony's rescue. "Uh well, I looked at Dunning's financials and if he was dealing drugs, he wasn't keeping the money he made in his bank accounts," he said as he brought up Dunning's financial records on screen. Gibbs turned away from Tony to look at the plasma. "His savings were reasonable for a corporal and we didn't find anything in his apartment to indicate that he had lots of cash to throw around."

Tony flashed him a grateful smile before saying, "We've got an interview set up with PFC Wysocki in an hour. Perhaps he could shed light on the situation."

Gibbs nodded. "McGee."

"I'll follow up on Dunning's electronic trail," he said as he hurried back to his desk. "Maybe his phone records will yield something."

Gibbs turned to Tony. "I'll background the rest of Dunning's squad to see if anyone else has a history of drugs," Tony said before Gibbs could say a word.

Lastly, Gibbs turned to Ziva. "I will help Tony."

He bent his head and started to pull up Dunning's cell phone information. They could get the GPS information from the carrier to see where Dunning had been in the last few days before he died. He worked diligently as Gibbs looked over them before he stalked off. They continued to work silently until they heard the rear elevator door open and close.

He let out a breath and was amused to hear Tony and Ziva do the same.

"Double fisting the coffee," Tony said. "I wonder what put the Boss in such a delightful mood so early in the morning?"

"I don't know," he said as he looked up at his partner. "It isn't one of his anniversaries is it?"

"Wedding anniversary? I don't think so," Tony replied as he typed.

"What about a divorce anniversary?" Ziva asked.

Tony shrugged. "Don't know that one either. But that is also a likely possibility. His last ex used to get drunk and call him repeatedly on their anniversary."

"Was that the one who was involved with our case a few years back?" Ziva asked.

Tony nodded. "I sent you Dunning's squad roster. I'll start at 'A' and you can start at 'Z.'"

"Appropriate," he said with a smile as he looked between his partners.

"And we'll meet in the middle," Tony finished with a glare in his direction. He continued to smile at Tony before he returned to his work at hand.

Engrossed in his task, he didn't notice the time slip by until Gibbs returned to collect Tony. PFC Wysocki had come in for a follow up interview. Just after Tony left, he completed mapping out the last week of Corporal Dunning's life.

"Hah!" he said triumphantly.

"You found something?" Ziva asked.

"Well I don't know if I found something. But I did manage to map out Dunning's last few days," he replied as he looked at the map.

"With the GPS information from his cell phone?" Ziva asked.

"Yeah," he replied as he put it up on the plasma. Ziva stood and walked over to it. He pointed out Dunning's apartment. "Until we collected his phone, Dunning's phone was at home."

"Where was he prior to returning home?" Ziva asked.

He pressed a few keys and watched as the signal left the house and traveled to a small business district. He zoomed in. "Looks like a bar," he said after searching the last address.

"Make sense. He told the neighbor he was meeting his friends," Ziva said.

"He arrived at the bar at ten o'clock and stayed there until almost two-thirty. His travel path shows that he went straight home," he replied. "He reached his apartment at zero three and the party was shut down at zero four."

"That narrows down the time of death to only sixty minutes," Ziva said just as Gibbs and Tony hurried down the stairs.

"What is it?" he asked concerned.

"One of Dunning's buddies, PFC Gonzales is in the hospital for a suspected drug overdose," Tony said as he collected his Sig. "Another one is dead."

"Meth?" he asked.

"Dunno yet. We're going to follow up on PFC Gonzales," Gibbs said as he collected his Sig.

"He's the live one," Tony clarified. "PFC King is the dead one."

"You have anything new?" Gibbs asked, ignoring Tony.

"We figured out where Dunning met his buddies," he replied. "A bar near the base."

Gibbs nodded. "Good. You and Ziva check it out. See if he had any altercations at the bar or took someone home with him."

"On it, Boss," he said as he collected his weapon as Ziva did the same.

"Will you let me drive this time?" Ziva asked as they started towards the elevators. Gibbs and Tony were already gone.

"No," he replied.

"Why not?" she asked.

"To be perfectly honest: your driving scares me, Ziva," he replied.

She smiled. "A little fear is a good thing, McGee," she said.

"How do you figure that?" he asked as the doors opened.

"It gets the blood flowing," she said as they stepped inside.

"And it tells you to avoid behavior that could lead to your death," he retorted.

"But it also reminds you that you are still alive," she retorted as she tried to snatch the keys from his hand.

"And I'd like to stay that way," he retorted as he closed his fingers over the keys preventing her from taking them.

She stared at him. "You do not have a sense of adventure, McGee."

* * *

 _Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you have a wonderful day full of good food, family and friends._


	5. Cold Shoulder

"So, do we just walk up to the door and knock?" he asked as they peered around the corner of the cabin towards the door.

"Why not?" Tony asked.

He couldn't come up with a better idea so he stood and walked over to the door. He lifted his hand to knock but Tony grabbed it and stopped him.

"I think I should be the one to knock, Probie," Tony said.

"Because you're the senior field agent?" he asked incredulously. He didn't even know why he objected. It really didn't matter who knocked.

"No," Tony replied. "Because I'm more charming." He smiled brightly.

He blinked at Tony in shock. _That_ was his reason. "You've got to be kidding?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" Tony asked with a roguish smile. "We need to get our foot in the door, Tim, or else we're going to freeze. I can do that."

"You would make a great anvil salesman, Tony," he replied with a sigh. He was too cold to be having this conversation, his head was aching, and he was exhausted from hiking through deep snow.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tony asked suddenly upset.

"Nothing," he replied.

"No, really," Tony said. "What does that mean? Do you think that you can get us in the door?"

"It's just that you've always said I look like a boy scout. Maybe I ought to be the first one she sees because I look trustworthy."

"What kind of logic is that?" Tony asked.

Suddenly the door opened and the girl stepped outside. She let out a short yelp as she collided with him. Startled, he took a step back just as she jumped back into the cabin and slammed the door shut.

"Hey!" Tony said as he knocked.

"Go away!" she shouted through the door.

"We can't," he replied. "We need help."

There was a moment of stark silence before she answered, "I can't help you."

"What do you mean you can't help us?" Tony asked heatedly. "Sure, you can help us."

"I can't help you," she replied emphatically.

"Tony," he said cutting off his partner. "Look," he said gently. "We understand that you're frightened. But we aren't going to hurt you. We just need some help."

The door opened a crack and the girl looked at him, her eyes wide with terror. "I'm not afraid of you," she said. "My father will kill you if he finds you here. You need to go before he comes back."

"Your father is Jack Dunning?" he asked. She nodded. "He's already tried to kill us. You know that, right?" She nodded again. "He dumped us in the woods to die. If you don't help us, we might not make it back to town."

"He'll be back any minute," she said as she looked past him into the snow. "I don't want you to get caught."

"We understand," he said calmly. "We won't stay long." Tony opened his mouth to object but he held up his hand to silence his partner. "We just need to warm up before we go."

She hesitated then nodded and opened the door. They hurried inside and over to the small fireplace. The heat was glorious on his frozen hands. "Thanks," he said as she shut the door.

"Sure," she replied even though she didn't look certain of what she was doing.

"How come you're out here all by yourself?" Tony asked as he rubbed his hands in front of the heat.

"Oh," she said. "I come out here all the time. I like that it's quiet and away from everyone. And I like being in the woods, around nature."

"Even in a blizzard?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Makes no difference to me. It's actually quieter when it snows. As long as I've got firewood, it doesn't bother me. I like to sit up in the loft and write. It's nice to not have any distractions and I don't need power. Just a pen and my notebook."

"You're a budding novelist then," Tony said as he looked at him. He saw the smirk tugging at his lips but didn't rise to Tony's bait. "What do you write?"

"It's stupid, really." She flushed bright scarlet. "Romance novels mostly."

"There is nothing wrong with that," he said quickly before Tony could say anything. "Everyone could use a little romance in their life."

She looked up at him and when she realized he wasn't making fun of her, she smiled brightly. But her smile faded. "My father is supposed to be back soon. You can't stay long."

Tony looked at him. The girl hadn't looked directly at Tony for any length of time. Her focus had been on him since they walked in the door. Maybe his Boy Scout looks _had_ helped to gain her trust. Whatever the reason, he was going to take advantage of it while it lasted.

And even though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he said, "We'll go. But can you help us first?"

She looked down. Her hair slid down to cover her face.

"What's your name?" he asked even though he knew it all ready.

"Kara," she said.

"Kara. I'm Tim and this is my partner Tony," he said, hoping that if she knew their names that would win them some sympathy. She looked up at him and blushed. He smiled at her, causing her to blush further. She did seem to have a thing for him. "We really need your help."

"What can I do?" she asked softly.

He smiled brightly at her. "Is there another cabin nearby? We need shelter for the night before we try to get back to town in the morning," he said.

"No," she replied shaking her head. "My father owns all the property 'round here and this is the only cabin. But there are caves all around here if you can find one. And there's a big storm coming. You might need to take shelter for a few days. You don't want to try hiking back to town in a blizzard."

He shook his head, wincing as the feeling began to return to his feet. The pins and needles had to be worse than any torture known to man. "Not really." He glanced at Tony. That wasn't good news. Tony's expression told him that he was thinking the same thing. It would be one thing to spend the night out in the open, but to spend several? They were going to need supplies to survive the cold. "Can you give us any supplies?"

"Like what?" she asked puzzled.

"Food and water," Tony said. "Maybe a couple of blankets."

They would need more than that. "Matches, a camping knife, an axe if you have one," he said chiming in. "Camping stuff."

She hesitated for a second before she hurried over to the table. She reached under it and pulled up an old, battered leather knapsack. She dumped out her belongings and started to grab food from the shelves.

"Thank you, Kara," he said sincerely.

She glanced at him over her shoulder and blushed again. "You're welcome, Tim. There are blankets in the chest next to the stove."

He nodded and turned to the chest on his left. He opened the lid and was surprised to see two holstered Sigs sitting on top of the blankets. He recognized his left-handed holster right away.

"Tony," he said drawing his partner's attention. Tony's eyes lit up as he handed Tony his weapon followed by his phone and knife which had been sitting under the weapons. He clipped his Sig to his belt, relieved to feel its familiar weight on his hip again. He then grabbed two heavy quilts and set them on top of the chest.

Kara had crammed as much as she could into the knapsack as possible and had cinched it shut. Then she grabbed a small case the size of a small medical kit.

"This is our camp kit," she said noting the bulges at their waist without commenting on their weapons. "It has all kinds of stuff in there. There's an axe outside by the door." He nodded. "Here," she said as she hurried up into the loft. Suddenly a pair of gloves and a hat tumbled from the opening. They were obviously hers. The purple hat had ear flaps with long tassels. He picked them up as she returned to the main floor. She looked at Tony and reached into the chest for a second hat. "This is my brother's, not my fathers," she said as she pressed it into Tony's hands.

Tony looked startled and mouthed, 'she doesn't know.'

He nodded in agreement and then shook his head, silently shushing Tony. Tony nodded. They didn't need to drop a bombshell on the already emotional girl.

"My father and uncles will come looking for you when they realize you've been here," she said.

"We don't want to get you in trouble," he said. "You can come with us. We can protect you from them."

She shook her head emphatically. "No. I'll be fine. I'll tell them that you forced your way in and took everything. He'll believe me but it'll make him even more mad."

"I'll bet," Tony said darkly.

"How do we get back to town?" he asked.

"If you follow the stream valley you'll come across some high-tension power lines," she said. "As you look down the valley, turn right and they'll lead you back to town but I bet my father will be watching that way."

"Are there any other trails?" Tony asked.

She shrugged. "There are but you'll never be able to follow them in the snow."

"What if we follow the stream valley?" he asked. "Will it cross a road?"

She shook her head. "No. If you follow the stream, you'll come to another town but it's really far away."

"How far?" he asked, feeling a sense of urgency. For some reason, he knew that they had to leave and soon.

"I don't know," she replied. "Fifteen or twenty miles maybe? Our towns are really far apart here."

He nodded. They had noticed that on their drive in. Too bad Jack Dunning hadn't left their satellite phone in the chest. They could have called Gibbs and been rescued in no time.

"Thank you, Kara," he said as he slung the pack onto his shoulders. It clanked loudly and was fairly heavy, which was slightly encouraging. He pulled on the hat and gloves she had given him. "You may have saved our lives." She smiled brightly at him. "If you can, call NCIS at the Navy Yard in Washington DC. Ask for an Agent Gibbs and tell him what happened."

"I'll try," she replied stammering slightly. "Now you really got to go."

He looked at Tony. Tony had the blankets and held out his hand for the camp kit. He handed it to Tony and opened the door, shuddering at the cold. He had just finally warmed up.

Tony left the cabin.

"Thanks again," he said as he pecked her on the cheek, knowing it would make her happy. When he pulled back, he saw the smile that lit up her face.

Hurrying outside, he collected the axe by the door and then on a whim, he grabbed the tarp that covered the wood pile and folded it.

"What's that for?" Tony asked.

"You never know if we're going to need something waterproof," he replied.

Tony shrugged as they started down the hill from the cabin. They hadn't gone more than a few hundred feet before Tony looked at him and said, "You know you look ridiculous in that hat, right?"

He had known that Tony was going to make some sort of comment about the hat. His friend just couldn't resist. Smiling as they walked, he replied, "You're probably right but right now I don't care. My ears are warm." Tony shrugged in concession. "Besides," he added. "It still probably looks better than that bright orange watch cap of Ziva's."


	6. Benumbed

Ziva sighed and looked around the empty squad room. This was worse than being on stakeout. At least on stakeouts, she had someone else to talk to. Right now, she was all alone and the prospects of someone arriving to break up the boredom were slim.

Gibbs would be returning from his coffee run soon, but as she knew, Gibbs was not likely to be too talkative, especially since he wanted her to finish reviewing the surveillance footage. Two weeks' worth of videos and she had to search all of them for Corporal Brian Dunning.

She was going numb from boredom.

She took a deep breath. She did not regret leaving Mossad. She had suffered too much pain and anguish at the hands of her father and she had never been happier since returning to Washington. For the most part, the last three years had been good.

Despite what had happened, Tim and Tony had accepted her back into their friendship. Tim's acceptance hadn't been as much of a surprise to her as Tony's. She had not damaged their friendship as badly as she had damaged her relationship with Tony.

But even so, she had been nervous that Tim's loyalty to Tony would mean he would be slow to accept her back. She still wasn't sure how much he knew of what happened between herself and Tony in Israel. But if he knew, he never let it on and he had seemingly put things behind him.

Since then, she had come to realize that he was a true friend. Supportive and caring, he worried about her when she was troubled and he celebrated with her when she was happy. It was comforting to know that she had such a good friend at her side who didn't judge her.

As for Tony, she had not thought that he would forgive her for what had happened. She had blamed him for things that were ultimately her fault. In her test of loyalty between Mossad and NCIS, she had chosen Mossad and because of it, Michael was dead, she had nearly destroyed the trust that her team had in her and she had nearly died. Even worse, Tony and Tim had nearly gotten themselves killed in an attempt to avenge her death.

But Tony had forgiven her. He had forgiven her for everything, including what she had said and done to him in Israel, because he saw the chaos she had been in. He saw how her divided loyalties had nearly destroyed her mind and body. And perhaps he had forgiven her because he knew she had suffered just as greatly for her actions. While their friendship had been shaken, it had not been destroyed and she loved him dearly for it.

Gibbs had taken longer to accept her because of what had happened with Ari. Choosing to renounce Mossad and become an American citizen so she could become an NCIS agent had meant a great deal to him. She had worked hard to prove that he could trust her. And eventually she had succeeded.

And yet, she had to admit that even at its dullest moments, life as a Mossad agent was still more exciting than spending hours staring at surveillance videos.

So, when she heard the elevator, she turned and looked towards the window, eager for a distraction.

She was surprised to see that it was starting to snow. She smiled. It did not snow often in D.C. and she enjoyed it even if the others would complain. To her, it was still a novelty even after living in Washington for so long.

"Find anything yet?" Gibbs asked as he rounded the corner.

"Not yet," she replied as she looked at him. She tried to look as if she hadn't been caught daydreaming.

"Anything from Tony and McGee?" he asked as he handed her a coffee before he took a seat at his desk.

She perked up at the smell of the coffee. "They called in several hours ago," she replied. "They reached Dunning's home town shortly after daybreak. Tony said they were waiting for the Sheriff to arrive so that they could check in with him," she replied. "He said that they would call in after they went to see Corporal Dunning's immediate family."

Gibbs looked at her intently.

"His father Jack, mother Alice and younger sister, Kara," she replied.

"No. Why were they going to call in?" Gibbs asked as he looked up at her.

She toyed with her coffee cup. "Tony said that the roads were bad. They were snow covered when they arrived and weather reports indicate that a snow storm is moving in. He said that they may be forced to stay the night if they cannot complete their interviews of Dunning's family in time."

Gibbs frowned.

"He also said that you would not be happy. And if they are forced to stay the night, he said to ask if you really think that he wants to spend the night in the boonies with McGee," she said.

Gibbs nodded in concession and she saw a small smile on his lips as he returned his attention to his computer.

She returned her gaze to the screen. Suddenly her phone chirped. Picking it up, she realized that she had a text message from Tim. Opening the message, she noted that it had been sent at eight-thirty but that it had not reached her phone until now, over two hours later.

 _Cell reception is awful. Call sat phone if you need us. Going to see Jack Dunning now. We will call when done._

"McGee sent me a text message," she said in answer to Gibbs' questioning look. "He says that cell phone reception is bad and that we should call their satellite phone. They were going to see Jack Dunning and planned to call in after they spoke to him. The message was sent two hours ago."

"Why would it take two hours to get to your phone?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Perhaps the signal was blocked by the storm? There are many things that can delay a cell signal."

She watched as Gibbs glanced at his watch. It was almost eleven. Gibbs picked up his phone and dialed a number. After a moment, he slammed the phone into its cradle.

"What?" she asked.

"Their satellite phone isn't on," he replied. She winced. Tim and Tony were breaking a very important rule.

"I will call Tim's cell phone," she said as she dialed. She frowned as the call went straight to voicemail. As she hung up her phone, she noted that Gibbs was hanging up his phone. "Voicemail."

"Same with Tony's cell," Gibbs replied with a frown.

"Do you think something is wrong?" she asked even though she knew the answer. She felt something was wrong so Gibbs must as well.

"I dunno," he said as he punched the speakerphone and a number on speed dial.

"El magnifico," Abby said cheerily even though it was hard to hear her with the music playing. Fortunately, she paused the music before Gibbs could tell her.

"I don't have anything for you yet. I'm still running the prints McGee lifted from the apartment because there were a lot of them. But most of them are Dunning's. Some belong to PFC Wysocki and some of Dunning's other squad buddies but those were all around the coffee table and gaming system. There is a set that didn't pop from AFIS so I'm searching other databases but that could take a while. But I might have something else. Soon. I'm waiting for Zeke to get back to me."

"Zeke?" he asked momentarily distracted.

"Well his name isn't Zeke but I thought that it was better than his real name, which is Milburn." He didn't reply. He didn't seem sure what to say. "I mean seriously? Who names their kid Milburn? Even if it is a family name, that's just cruel. But you didn't call me to ask about Zeke."

"No," he said.

"Right. Sorry. What can I do for you?"

"I need you to do a GPS trace on a phone," he said.

"Of course," Abby replied. "What's the number?"

"McGee or DiNozzo's cell phones," he replied.

"Is something wrong?" Abby asked. She noted a hint of fear in Abby's voice. She was very close to both Tim and Tony. Ziva did not doubt that Abby would be devastated if something were to happen to either one. It could only be worse if something happened to both of them at the same time.

"I don't know," he replied. "I'll know when you trace their phones."

"Ok," Abby said not entirely convinced. They heard her tap several keys. "Ok I'm running Tim's number now." There was a moment of silence. "That's weird. His phone isn't showing up. The only way that would happen is if it was off."

"Try Tony's," Gibbs said.

"Already on it," Abby replied. "Tony's phone must be off too. Why would they turn their phones off?"

"I don't know Abs," he replied.

"Gibbs," Abby said. "What's going on?"

She looked at Gibbs. She could see that he was worried. She searched her desk until she found the sticky note Tim had left her.

"I don't know. But I'm going to find out," he said.

She stood up and walked over to his desk. "Call me as soon as you do," Abby replied as Gibbs hung up the phone.

She held out the note. "This is the number to the Sheriff's office."

He nodded and took the paper. He dialed the number using the speakerphone so she could hear both sides of the conversation.

"Hastings Police Department, Shirley speaking, how may I help you?" a voice asked.

"This is Special Agent Gibbs of NCIS," he said as she looked at him. "Two of my people were in Hastings to speak to Jack Dunning and his family."

"Of course," Shirley responded pleasantly. "They were here this morning. They spoke with Mark. I mean Sheriff Berman. Do you need to talk to him?"

"Yes," Gibbs replied.

"I'll put you right through," Shirley said.

They waited only a moment for the call to connect.

"Sheriff Berman."

"Sheriff. Agent Gibbs, NCIS."

"Yes, Agent Gibbs, what can I do for you?" Sheriff Berman asked.

Gibbs looked up at her. "You spoke with two of my people this morning."

"Agents DiNozzo and McGee," he said. "Yes, we talked about the Dunning family. I understand their son died."

"Yes," Gibbs replied. "We're investigating the circumstances of his death."

"As your Agents explained," Sheriff Berman replied. "I'll tell you what I told them. Brian Dunning was a good kid. He stayed out of trouble for the most part. Instead of becoming a logger like most of this town, he went off and joined the Marines. That's pretty much the last we've seen of Brian. He's only come back a few times to visit his sister. They could have told you all of this."

"When was the last time you spoke with them?" Gibbs asked.

"A couple hours ago, I suppose. Around eight-thirty? I got into the office at eight and they were waiting for me," Berman said going through the timeline. "We talked for about a half hour and I gave them directions out to Jack Dunning's house," Berman said. "Why?"

"We haven't been able to contact them," Gibbs said. "And they were going to call in after talking to Brian Dunning's parents and sister."

She examined Gibbs. He was difficult to read most times but as of late he seemed to be more emotionally open. She was not sure why. She did not know if it was because he had reconnected with his father or if it was due to recent events with Harper Dearing.

Whatever the reason, he was clearly worried. But it was still surprising for her to see his emotions so out in the open.

"Well," the Sheriff said with a hint of amusement. "In weather like this, it would take at least a half hour to get to Jack's place. Probably more. Depending on how long they talked, they might not have left yet. And cell phone reception up here is spotty even at the best of times. When a bad storm rolls in like this, we can lose service pretty easy."

"They have a satellite phone," Gibbs replied. "And we ran a trace on their cell phones. They're off or else we'd be able to trace them by their GPS coordinates."

"Oh," Berman said. Ziva noted that his tone changed. "That changes things," Berman replied. "My Deputy and I were out checking in on some older citizens on the outskirts of Hastings before this storm hits. Russ is still out. I'll contact him and have him check their route from town to Jack's place. The roads are getting bad. It's possible they missed a curve and got into an accident. I'll contact you as soon as I have anything."

"You do that," Gibbs said. He punched the button to hang up the phone with more force than necessary.

Gibbs looked up at her and his expression told her volumes.

"You are worried," she said unnecessarily.

"And you're not?" he asked.

"Of course, I am worried," she retorted. "They are my friends. If they were in an accident, it would be bad enough but with the storm moving into the area…" She trailed off.

Suddenly she had a thought. Hurrying to her desk, she pulled up a weather site. She did a quick search and pulled up a radar map. She put it up on the plasma next to Gibbs.

Gibbs turned and looked at the map. Hastings was on the leading edge of a very dark blue blob. She read the story that went with the radar map.

"A cold front from Canada is mixing with moist air from the Gulf," she said. "Snow totals will range from a few inches along the coast to a few feet in the Appalachian Mountains. The storm is expected to last several days."

"If they were in an accident, the Deputy will find them and give them a lift back to town," Gibbs said. "In the meantime, have you found anything on the tapes?"

She tapped a few keys and returned to the video. "I have one final angle from the bar to review. Otherwise, I have not found anything."

"Keep on it," Gibbs said as he returned to his work.

She nodded and returned to watching the film, keeping a close eye on Corporal Dunning as he socialized with his friends in the crowded bar. However, she could not stop herself from glancing at the clock more frequently than necessary. The minutes ticked by agonizingly slow as she watched the video.

Suddenly, she saw something interesting.

"Gibbs," she said as she put up the image on the screen between Tim an Tony's desk. "The bartender we spoke with said that he saw Corporal Dunning arguing with a man that looked like he was related to Dunning."

Gibbs looked at the screen and the still image of Dunning and another man. "He looks like he could be related to Dunning."

"That is because he is," Ziva said. "McGee pulled the DMV photos of every member of Corporal Dunning's family. That man is Dunning's uncle, William Dunning."

She put William Dunning's DMV photo up on the screen side-by-side with the surveillance image. There was no doubt that they were the same man."

"Did the bartender know why they were arguing?" Gibbs asked.

"He did not hear the specifics," she replied.

Suddenly Gibbs' phone rang. They both looked at it before Gibbs punched the speaker button.

"Gibbs," he said.

"Agent Gibbs. Sheriff Berman," Berman said.

"Did you find them?" Gibbs asked.

"No," Berman replied. "But Russ found their car over a hillside and into a tree. The engine was cold and it was covered with snow. No one was inside."

"Where are my agents?"

"I don't know," Berman replied. "Russ didn't see any tracks leading away from the car but that isn't surprising. The snow is coming down so hard now they'd have been covered up in short order. It looks like they hit the tree and wandered off in a daze. They must have hit their heads in the accident."

"Even with airbags?" she asked.

"Airbags deploy with significant force," Berman replied. "Agent…"

"David," she supplied.

"Even if they did strike their heads, I do not think that both of them would have been addled enough to wander off into the woods," she objected.

"I agree," Gibbs said. "Did your Deputy search the rest of the car?"

"He did. He found the satellite phone under the seat. It was crushed in the crash," Berman said. "And he found their overnight bags in the trunk."

Something was wrong. She knew it. It was perfectly plausible that they were in an accident but there was something wrong with what happened after. Tim and Tony would not have wandered into the woods and they would not have left their overnight bags behind.

She looked at the plasma screen that still showed William Dunning on the surveillance tape and his DMV photo. Gibbs followed her gaze then looked at her. She could see that he was thinking the same thing.

"We're coming up there," Gibbs said suddenly.

"I wouldn't recommend that, Agent Gibbs. We're closing most of the roads. The road crews can't keep up with the snow at the rate it is coming down," Berman replied.

"And two of my men are missing in that storm," Gibbs said firmly. "You don't expect me to sit here and do nothing, do you?"

"Of course not, Agent Gibbs," Berman said bristling. "But you won't do your Agents any good if you get yourself killed trying to get here."

"I'll see you in a few hours," Gibbs said as he hung up the phone. "Go home. Pack your cold weather gear. I'll pick you up in an hour." She glanced at the clock. It was just after lunch. "We aren't coming back until we find them."

"I can be ready in half that time," she said. He nodded. She reached her desk and collected her weapon. She turned towards Gibbs as he collected his own weapon. "I would not expect anything less," she said. "I do not intend to abandon Tim or Tony."


	7. Frozen Assets

His feet were freezing again.

He glanced at his watch. It was just after three o'clock. They had been trudging through the snow for almost three hours since they had left the cabin. His feet didn't feel like they were attached anymore, he felt like he had run a marathon and his head was still aching.

"How you holding up, Tim?" he asked as they hurried along the stream. The valley walls were steep, which helped to keep them on course but it also made it really easy for the Dunnings to predict their path.

"I could use a warm fire and some dry boots," Tim replied.

"Same here," he said as he scanned the hillside for a cave opening.

So far, they hadn't found anything that they could use. They had found a cave thirty minutes ago but that crack in the hillside hadn't been large enough for the both of them. And an hour before that, they had found something more like an overhang but with an opening that was ten feet long, it was too exposed, both to the elements and the Dunnings.

He was beginning to wonder what they should do in case they didn't find a cave. The snow was coming down so thickly it was hard to see more than ten or fifteen feet ahead of them and the temperature felt like it had dropped even more. They needed shelter and soon.

Time to ask McScout.

"You have any ideas of what we should do in case we don't find a cave?" he asked. "It's getting late. The sun'll go down soon and take the temperature with it. Not that it's warm now."

Tim looked around. "I know. I was thinking the same thing. We'll have to build a makeshift shelter and light a fire if possible. We could build a lean-to with pine branches but I'd prefer a cave. It'll be warmer."

He nodded as they walked. "Let's give it a little more time. If we don't find something soon then we'll build a lean-to. I'd rather not wait until it gets dark for that," he said.

Tim nodded.

They continued for another thirty minutes and just when he was going to tell Tim they ought to start a shelter, he caught sight of a crack in the hillside. The opening was about fifty feet up the slope and it appeared that it was a couple feet wide. The dark smudge stood out against the white background of snow.

"Tim," he said. He stopped and pointed. Tim nodded and together they hiked up the slope.

Not wanting to get his hopes up, he looked at the opening skeptically. On closer inspection, it didn't seem to be as much a cave as a crack in a boulder. But at three feet at the widest, the opening was a little bigger than he had estimated from below.

"Doesn't look like much," he said as he tried to look inside. But as he spoke, he could tell that there was some size to cave. He could hear his voice echo. "But it sounds bigger than the last one. Let me check it out."

"Hold on. We need to check for residents first," Tim said stopping him before he blundered into a hibernating animal's den. "Check the kit for a flashlight."

Nodding, he handed Tim the quilts and then opened the kit. A few items seemed to be missing but there was a hand-crank flashlight. A quick test told him that the flashlight worked. He handed the kit to Tim and said, "If someone is home, maybe we'll get dinner too."

Tim looked at him warningly. "Or we could be dinner."

"That's what this is for," he replied jauntily as he drew his Sig. But as he turned towards the opening, he was all business. Cautiously, he shined the light inside. He didn't see anything so he slid inside. The cave wasn't very big, but it was empty and best of all, it was large enough for both of them.

But just to be certain, he searched the nooks and crannies. The cave was maybe the size of a minivan and roughly the same shape. The ceiling was low which forced him to stoop slightly as he checked for previous tenants. Aside from some leaves, twigs and some stray rocks, the cave was empty.

Ducking outside he motioned for Tim to enter the cave. "We're lucky, no current tenants. Not even a wampa." He grinned as Tim stared at him. "Hey, I should get points for remembering the name of the yeti-thing from _Star Wars_."

The wind picked up again, causing him to shiver. Dropping the line of conversation, he entered the cave and Tim followed him.

"Hope you're not claustrophobic," he added.

"I'm not," Tim said as he looked around.

Now that his partner was standing in their shelter, the cave felt three times as small.

"It could use a coat of paint and a few homey touches," he said as Tim set down the survival kit, the tarp and the blankets. Suddenly the wind picked up and snow forced its way inside. "Home could use a door," he muttered. "So, what do we do now? You're the camping expert."

"I wouldn't say 'expert,' Tony," Tim replied. "When I go camping I have more gear than this and I don't go out in blizzards."

Rolling his eyes, he looked at Tim. "You know more than me so of the two of us, you're the expert."

"We need firewood," Tim said.

"I figured that one out for myself," he replied.

"Hey, do you want my opinion or not?" Tim retorted. He rolled his eyes and motioned for Tim to continue. "Avoid pinewood. Downed hardwood branches would be best, and a dead tree would be next on the list although it'll be hard to cut into reasonably sized pieces. We don't want to try to light green wood. It's going to be hard enough to light wet and frozen wood."

"Ok," he said, taking the axe from Tim. "I'll get the wood. You sort out the supplies and set up in here."

"Tony!" Tim called but he didn't stop.

They needed a fire and soon. They were both soaked and freezing and he knew that they were at risk for frostbite and exposure. He hurried to a stand of trees and kicked around the snow until he found several downed branches. He pulled them into a pile as he continued his search. When he had a sizable collection, he gathered them and made his way back to their cave.

He dumped the wood outside and poked his head inside. He would need Tim's help cutting up some of the larger pieces. "Tim," he said but he stopped when he realized that McGee wasn't inside.

Turning around, he scanned the woods. He didn't see Tim anywhere.

He considered calling for Tim, but he stopped himself. If the Dunnings were searching for them, he didn't want to draw their attention. And he didn't want to cause an avalanche. Granted the latter was unlikely but given their luck over the last day, he didn't want to chance it.

Suddenly he saw Tim upslope dragging several large pine branches towards the cave. He hurried to Tim's side to help him.

"Damn, Tim, don't do that to me," he said.

Tim looked at him. "Worried?" he asked bemused.

"Yeah," he replied as if it was obvious. Shaking his head, he tried to cover his concern. "I mean, how would I explain to Gibbs that I let you get lost in the woods?"

They reached the cave and dropped their load. Tim looked down at the pile of wood he had collected. There wasn't much.

"I'm fine," Tim replied. "Come on. We need more wood than that and it's better if we work together. And for that matter, we should stick together like I tried to tell you before." He shrugged his head in concession. "It looks like there was a wind storm that came through here. I found a bunch of stumps when I was looking for the pine trees. I bet we'll find some downed trees there."

Together, they hurried up the slope.

Tim was right. There seemed to be numerous stumps sticking up through the snow which made finding a fallen tree under the snow much easier. And between the two of them they managed to pry a smaller one loose from the frozen ground and chop it into manageable pieces. They dragged the pieces to the cave mouth and took turns chopping the log into reasonable lengths for firewood before splitting the logs.

He paused and handed Tim the axe. He wiped the sweat from his forehead as he tried to catch his breath. It was hard work to chop up frozen wood with a small axe and the cold air was searing his lungs.

"You ok?" Tim asked.

"Yeah," he replied as he bent over. "Ever since the plague, cold air bothers me."

Tim nodded as he started to split the last of the wood. "Ducky said that your lungs would have been scarred." He watched as Tim swung the axe into the upright end of the wood then smacked it against the ground until the piece had split in half.

"When'd he say that?" he asked as Tim started into the next piece.

"After we thought you had been blown up," Tim replied as he worked. "That's how we figured out that you weren't dead. The corpse from your car had pristine lungs."

"Hmm," he said with an air of interest. Now that he had recovered his breath, he started to transport their firewood into the cave. "So, what's with the pine tree?" he asked. "I thought you said we shouldn't burn them."

"They're not for the fire," Tim replied.

"Trying to give our temporary home a pine fresh scent?"

"Not exactly," Tim replied as he wiped his forehead. "We need a door for one." He nodded in agreement. He was thinking that they could use the tarp, but pine branches would work just as well. "And we need something to cushion the floor. The pine fresh scent is an added bonus. Let's get the last of the wood inside, then we can work on the door and then get the fire going."

"Right," he replied as he helped move the firewood. Then between the two of them, they managed to seal off the cave opening. They shoved the remainder of the pine boughs into the back of the cave, which was now significantly more crowded with the addition of the wood which was stacked to one side. "This place looked bigger before," he said as he turned on the flashlight. "You learn that thing with the pine branches as a scout?"

"No," Tim replied as he grabbed some of the smaller pieces of wood and started to stack it up in a pyramid near the door. "I didn't do much camping as a scout. Every time a father and son trip came up, my father was deployed. The few times I went camping with my dad, we had a tent, camp stove, the whole nine yards."

"So, roughing it wasn't really roughing it?" he asked as he aimed the flashlight's beam towards the wood pile so Tim could pick through it.

Tim shook his head. "My dad said that if he wanted to muck around in the woods, he would have joined the marines." He chuckled and Tim smiled. "He would have rather gone sailing. But he took me camping anyway because he knew I'd get seasick if we went sailing." He looked at his partner. "I was seasick for half of my Tiger Cruise on the _Nimitz_ and miserable for the rest of it _._ "

"That sucks," he said. "That would have been the best playground ever for a kid."

"Not when your dad is the Captain," Tim replied sourly. "Even if I hadn't been seasick, I doubt I'd have had any fun. My father was very clear that I was not to do anything that would reflect poorly on him."

He snorted. "Like you would have done that anyway." Tim shrugged. "So how did camping go with your dad?"

Tim shrugged again. "Ok I guess. We were able to light our campfire but then again, we had dry wood. We did some fishing, which was pretty fun and I did get my camping badge."

Tim smiled at the memories.

For a moment he found that he was insanely jealous of his younger partner. Sometimes Tim reminded him of what he had missed out on with his own father after his mother had died. Even if old man McGee was strict, he was there for his children.

But as he watched, Tim's smile faded and turned into a frown. His partner was focused on the work, but he could see the wheels turning in McGee's head. For some reason, he had a feeling that things between the McGee men weren't all sunshine and roses. If they were stuck in this cave for a few days, he'd have time to figure out why.

"Good thing the scouts don't have a sailing badge. Unless they give a badge for spewing your lunch all over the place too." Tim pulled a face at him. "So, if you weren't roughing it, how'd you come up with the idea for the pine branches?"

"I read it somewhere," Tim said vaguely. That made him think that Tim was trying to evade answering him but right now he wasn't going to press the issue. He'd have plenty of time to question his friend about his camping knowledge once they got the fire started.

He set the flashlight on top of the backpack. "Read anything about lighting a fire with wet wood?" he asked as he began to break up some of the smaller branches.

"No," Tim said as he suddenly shivered. He shivered too. Now that they weren't working, he realized that he was cold and wet. He looked down at his pants. He was soaked past his knee. "But if we don't get one started…"

"Yeah, it won't be good," he agreed.

"I grabbed some pine cones and needles," Tim said pointing to the small pile that lay under a stack of their wood. "They seemed pretty dry when I cut the pine branches down. I thought they might work as tinder. And we can shave down some of the smaller pieces to make more tinder."

Tim gathered the pine cones as he pulled out his pocket knife and began to shave bits of wood with shaking hands. When he finished, he pushed the tinder under the small pyramid.

"Here goes nothing," he said as he used one of their matches to light the tinder.

He could feel Tim watching him intently as he carefully blew on the tinder until some of the smaller pieces of wood caught fire, snapping and cracking as the water evaporated forcefully. He had built plenty of campfires at Camp Poke-a-quatic but never before had so much counted on getting those precious flames going. Slowly and methodically, he added more and more wood until they began to cough.

"This isn't good," Tim said as he noticed their cave was filling up with smoke.

"Cut some holes in our door near the top," he said as he looked upward.

Tim nodded. He grabbed his knife and carefully cut away a few of the pine branches near the ceiling. He then cut a second hole on the other side. It allowed cold air to enter their cave, but it also drew the smoke outside. Tim used his coat to help the process.

"Good call," he said as the smoke cleared. "I saw a couple of big rocks at the back of the cave," he said. "Grab them. We can use them to help reflect the heat into the cave."

Tim nodded. After he positioned the stones around the fire, Tim started to cut the pine branches and lay them out in a mattress. He focused on the fire until he heard the tarp. He turned around and saw Tim spreading it out over the pine branches.

"They're wet," Tim explained.

He nodded and returned his attention to the fire. It took nearly an hour of careful tending before they had a good enough base so that their fire could sustain some of the larger pieces. Their cave, while not hot, was warm enough that they could remove their shoes and socks so they could dry.

"Well we won't win any awards from Good Housekeeping," he said. Suddenly the wind howled. They looked at the door as it shook but it held. A few cold drafts leaked inside but the heat from their fire offset it. "But it's warm."

"I thought you didn't know anything about building a fire with wet wood," Tim said as he gratefully wiggled his toes.

"I don't," he replied as he positioned some wet pieces of wood near the fire to dry. "But I've built camp fires before. Camp Poke-a-quatic." Tim looked at him. "What? You didn't think that it was all knife throwing and clogging, did you?"

"I figured that the clogging wouldn't leave much time for anything useful," Tim replied.

He pulled a face at Tim before he added another piece of wood to the fire.

"I'm just glad that I learned something useful there. Makes it a little more worth it."

Tim looked at him sympathetically. His issues with his father weren't a secret and Tim knew he had been warehoused at various boarding schools and summer camps after his mother had died. It wasn't the post-card family life, but it hadn't been a bad childhood either.

"I didn't think I'd be able to get it lit in the first place. The tinder and pine needles were a good idea," he added.

"I wasn't sure it would work either," Tim replied. "Glad it did though." Tim fell silent as they watched their fire flicker.

His clothes were still damp but he was finally feeling warm again.

"So, I think it's a safe bet that Pa Dunning has something to hide," he said.

"But what?" Tim asked. He looked questioningly at his partner. "Was it about Corporal Dunning's murder? Or the drugs?"

"Or both?" he asked. Tim didn't answer but he didn't disagree either. For some reason the silence was oppressive, so he looked at Tim. "What supplies did Kara give us?"

Tim grabbed the battered leather knapsack and the survival kit. "It looks like they've raided their kit over the years," Tim said as he opened the kit. "Fishing line and hooks are gone."

"Not that we're going to catch fish in this weather," he replied drolly.

Tim shrugged in concession. "Flashlight, one candle, matches, basic medical supplies." Tim closed the kit and started to pull items out of the knapsack. Two large bottles of water, a large bag of what he would guess was homemade venison jerky, a jar of peanut butter, a bag of mixed dried fruit, a box of crackers, several packets of instant oatmeal, and four large cans of tuna.

He frowned as he took one of the bottles of water and took a drink.

"I know," Tim said as he packed everything back into the bag. "And not knowing how long this storm will last…" Tim trailed off as the wind picked up. They both looked at the door, but once again, it held firm. "Food aside, I know that isn't enough water for two people for more than one day."

"You're kidding, right?" he asked incredulously. "McGee, we're surrounded by water. All we have to do it melt it."

"Yeah, Tony," Tim replied shaking his head. "But you shouldn't eat snow, whether it's yellow or not. Snow is full of bacteria and pollution."

"Pollution? What pollution? We're in the middle of nowhere."

"Yeah but this storm had to come from somewhere and that somewhere isn't in the middle of nowhere," Tim replied as he took the open bottle of water and took a sip. "We'll need to figure out a way to boil the snow and get it to condense back into our bottles. I guess we can use the tuna cans once we eat the tuna, but we'll have to figure something out in the meantime."

"Perfect!" he said.

"Perfect? You figured it out all ready?" Tim asked incredulously.

"No!" he replied, enthusiastically. "But it'll give us something to do. I was worried we were going to be bored." Tim snorted. "So how do you know all this stuff? You know, the pine cones, the pine branches," he said as he tested the mattress. While it wasn't as comfortable as his bed, it did make the ground a little easier to deal with. "Boiling the snow." Tim hedged. "Timothy McGee, are you researching for a new book?"

Tim smiled wryly. "Yeah."

"Do tell!" he said excitedly.

"You're more excited about this than you should be," Tim said cautiously.

"Well it's topical," he countered. "Whatever happened to _Rock Hollow_?"

Tim frowned. "After everything that happened, I ended up rewriting the whole thing. It took a year to write, six months to edit and it eventually was published four years ago. I was never really happy with it and it didn't do nearly so well as _Deep Six_. But after the first book, they signed me for another two books. So, I have another novel I'm obligated to write. I'm about three-quarters of the way through it."

"Hence why you're researching wilderness survival," he said. Tim nodded. "So, what's the plot for this one Mr. Gemcity?"

Tim lay back and stared at the ceiling. He followed suit. The flickering firelight playing across the roof of the cave was oddly comforting.

"You remember that case with the serial killer park ranger?" Tim asked finally.

"Of course," he replied. "You used the serial killer for your next book?"

"Not exactly. The killer is well versed in woods lore but he isn't a park ranger. He's part of a survivalist militia. He's wanted for murdering a marine who was selling the militia stolen military weapons."

"Let me guess: there's also a crooked ATF agent involved and Tommy goes undercover as a sleazy gun runner named Gus," he said with a grin.

"Huh?" Tim asked as he turned to look at him in confusion.

He looked at his partner. "Come on, McGee," he said grinning. "You helped out on that case. Don't you remember? You and Kate arrested the partner when she went to pick up the weapons."

"Oh," Tim said. "I wasn't thinking of that case. I guess the only similar part is the murdered marine selling stolen weapons part. I was actually thinking about the part where we were looking for the killer park ranger in the woods."

"Ok," he said. "What happens next?"

"Oh uh. Once the team identifies the survivalist as the killer they pursue him into the woods. They split into teams of two. Tibbs and Tommy. Lisa and MacGregor. The killer stalks and shoots MacGregor and takes Officer Lisa hostage."

"You shot yourself?" he asked.

"MacGregor," Tim said emphatically. "You do know there is a difference between my characters and us?"

"You're kidding right?" he asked incredulously.

"I'm not," Tim replied earnestly as he propped himself up on one elbow. "Do you really think that's how I see you Tony? As a womanizing, practical joker who doesn't take anything serious?"

He looked at Tim. He seemed to be genuinely concerned.

"Maybe not now," he replied. "But when we first met? Yeah."

Tim lay down and returned to staring at the ceiling. "I saw those things but that's not all that I saw. I saw the brilliant investigator side of you too. I just couldn't understand why you hid it behind the jokes and juvenile humor. It was frustrating."

"Frustrating?" he asked as he looked at Tim. "Because I teased you?"

"No," Tim replied. "Well yes. But mostly because I had to work to get to that closet in Norfolk. I always wanted to be in law enforcement. But everyone told me I wasn't cut out for being an agent. They told me that I should be off writing programs or building video games and that I should give up."

"Obviously those people didn't know you very well," he replied. Tim looked at him. "I've seen you when you're focused on a goal McGee. You don't quit until you reach it." Tim shrugged. "So, you were frustrated because I made light of something you worked hard to get to?"

"A little I guess," Tim replied. "And your teasing didn't help either. I guess that Tommy was a way to work out my frustrations."

He snorted. "I noticed."

Tim looked at him and said, "But underneath it all, Tommy is just as competent." He nodded. "You still hate me for writing my book," Tim said dejectedly.

"What?" he asked surprised. "No!" He smiled and looked over at his partner. "Ok at first I didn't really like that you used me in your book McGee. But after a while, I found it flattering." Tim looked at him in disbelief. "Yes, flattering. I know that you exaggerated some of my…" He paused as he searched for the right words. "Less desirable qualities but you did that to yourself too though. You are nowhere near as dorky as MacGregor." Tim smiled wanly. "Besides it is kinda cool that so many people liked us."

"I had no idea my book would make it that big," Tim replied. "At first it was nice to get some money for my hobby then it got bigger and before I know it, I was on the best sellers list."

"And you didn't tell us," he said teasing Tim.

"Yeah well what was I going to say? Hey Tony, I uh wrote a book using some of your best and worst qualities for one of my characters. You were going to be mad no matter what I did," Tim retorted.

"Probably," he conceded. "It would have been better if you had told us rather than let us find out by accident when your sister spilled the beans."

"Yeah well, I missed that opportunity," Tim said. "So, you really aren't mad anymore?"

He nearly laughed. Tim sounded so hopeful. "Nah, I'm not mad any more. It kinda makes me feel famous. But just because I'm not mad, it doesn't mean I'm not going to tease the hell out of you for it."

"Of course, you will," Tim said resigned to his fate.

He smiled. "So, why'd you shoot yourself?"

"People like MacGregor," Tim said. "He's young, naïve, and inexperienced. I figured that it would create the most drama if he was the one who was shot."

"Was he shot trying to rescue, Lisa?" he asked with a sly smile.

"Playing the hero?" Tim asked astutely. "No. He's purely the damsel in distress." He couldn't help the smirk that crossed his lips. "The killer shot MacGregor to distract Lisa. Then he kidnapped her when she was trying to help MacGregor and left MacGregor for dead. Luckily Tibbs and DeLuca find him but not before he loses a lot of blood. Tibbs goes after the killer and Officer Lisa, which leaves DeLuca to care for MacGregor. DeLuca and MacGregor spend some quality bonding time in a cave while they're waiting to be rescued."

"Ironic," he said. "Life is imitating art."

"Well at least I haven't been shot," Tim replied. "But Tony, my book took place in the summer. DeLuca and MacGregor are riding out a tropical storm, not a blizzard. I didn't research cold weather survival."

"I'd say that we're doing ok so far, Tim," he said as he sat up and checked his socks. He turned them over as Tim did the same. "Doesn't mean that I'm not worried though."

"I know," Tim replied as he examined him. He turned his gaze towards their door as the wind picked up. "We've got shelter but we still need to get back to civilization."

"All while avoiding the Dunning trio who seem to be hunting us for some reason," he said. "I've been wondering, Tim. Before Officer Lisa was it…"

"A character based on Kate?" Tim asked as he poked their fire with a long branch. "Yeah," he said heavily. "Agent Megan 'Meg' Dodd. I couldn't keep her character after what happened. Every time I read through my writing, I'd think of her and it was too hard."

They fell silent as they thought about their partner.

In a way, Tim had been spared the worst of it. He hadn't been on the roof when Kate had been killed. He hadn't been laughing with her seconds before the lights went out. He hadn't had her blood on his face.

"I miss Kate," he said suddenly.

"Me too," Tim replied. Suddenly he pulled out his phone. He looked at it then turned it off. "We're not getting any signal here. I want to conserve the battery," Tim explained.

He nodded and did the same with his phone. "Well there is a bright side to our phones not working."

"What's that?" Tim asked.

"When we don't check in, they'll come looking for us," he replied.

Tim looked hopeful for a second before his expression fell. "If Gibbs and Ziva can make it through this storm."

He smiled broadly and smacked Tim on the back. Tim frowned but that couldn't diminish his enthusiasm. "Come on Tim! Do you really think that a little snow is going to stop Gibbs?"


	8. Frosty Reception

The drive to Hastings had been treacherous at best, with near white-out conditions that made it difficult to see where the road was. But even though they had to slow to a crawl at times to navigate the untreated mountain roads, he never once considered stopping except to put the chains on the tires. Once Ziva had found the connection between Corporal Dunning and his uncle, he had a growing sense of foreboding.

It had been almost nine hours since Tim and Tony had last been seen. And regular updates from Abby told him that they hadn't shown up on the grid either. Something had happened, he just didn't know what.

Hastings was a large town for this part of West Virginia but that still meant only a couple thousand people at most and only about half of those people lived within the town proper. It was a logging town, but they were close enough to a ski resort that there was a small tourist trade. There were a few artist studios in town, several restaurants and a large bed and breakfast.

He pulled up in front of the Hastings police station and got out of the car. The streets were devoid of traffic but there were a few people out and about. They looked at him and Ziva curiously before the gusting winds and blowing snow sent them on their business.

Despite his winter coat and cold weather gear, the wind was bitingly cold. Tony and McGee hadn't come into the office before heading to Hastings this morning, so he didn't know how well they were dressed. He hoped they had been smart enough to dress for the inclement weather.

Hurrying through the snow, he entered the police station with Ziva close on his heels. After the cold, the heat of the station was almost stifling. He quickly opened his coat for some relief and he saw Ziva do the same.

The receptionist looked at them in surprise. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Yes," he said as he pulled out his badge. "Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS. We spoke earlier."

She looked flabbergasted for a moment before she asked, "You're here to see Mark then?"

Just then a man in a police uniform stepped through the door with some folders. He stopped in his tracks when he saw them. "I'm going to take a stab in the dark. Agents Gibbs and David."

"Good guess," he responded.

"I'm surprised as hell that you made it up here," Berman said. Berman handed the folders to the woman at the front desk then motioned for them to follow him into a small conference room.

"My people are in trouble," he replied. "And I don't leave my men behind."

Berman looked at him critically. "Marines, huh?" He nodded. "I did a stint as a squid. Didn't mind the life but my heart has always been in the mountains, not the ocean." Gibbs nodded. "Give me a moment to get the evidence we collected from your agents' car."

Berman left the room and returned a moment later with a large cardboard box full of plastic bags. Berman set it on the table and motioned for them to look for themselves.

He started to pull out items that appeared to be the remains of their satellite phone. Then he reached into the box and pulled out a folder.

"Those are the photos from the scene. We couldn't get a wrecker out to the site with this weather, so we left the car along with a police radio," Berman said. "If they return to the car, they'll be able to contact us."

He nodded and pulled the photos from the folder, handing the photos to Ziva as he looked through them. Most of the photos seemed routine. The deployed airbags. Cracked windshield. The impact with the tree. Their bags in the trunk.

"We left the bags in case they returned," Berman said. "Along with some food, Mylar blankets, and water just in case."

"Won't the water freeze?" Ziva asked.

"The car might be damaged," Berman replied. "But it still runs. The keys were left in the ignition and she started right up. They'll have heat, which they can use to melt the water if it freezes."

"Have you pulled together search parties?" he asked.

"No," Berman replied bluntly.

"Why not?" Ziva demanded. He watched as Berman flinched at Ziva's intensity. "With this storm it is imperative that we find them before they die of exposure."

"I understand that, which is why Russ is still out searching from the road. But I can't risk any search parties getting lost in this storm," Berman replied.

"Your people know this area though," he started.

"Agent Gibbs," Berman said cutting him off. "I understand your concern for your people. If I were in your shoes, I would be chomping at the bit to get out there and search for them too. But from my position, I won't underestimate this storm. Even someone who grew up in these woods and knows the trails can get lost in a blizzard. I won't risk my neighbor's lives unnecessarily."

He didn't like the answer but it was one that he had expected. And it was one that he couldn't argue with. He wouldn't send his people out into this storm for a search and rescue operation either.

"Do you have any better information on the weather?" he asked instead.

As he nodded, Berman seemed relieved that he wasn't going to argue any further. "This storm is going to dump at least two feet of snow on us here," Berman replied. "And we've already got a base of twelve to eighteen inches of snow. There's a front coming in from the west, but if it stalls, we might get up to three feet of snow. It'll be at least two more days, maybe three before it clears enough to consider forming search parties."

He frowned.

"I understand your frustration, Agent Gibbs. And I promise you that as soon as we can get out and look for your people, we will. I only met them briefly, but Agent DiNozzo and Agent McGee seem like good men."

"The best," he replied as he looked at Ziva. She nodded.

"Since you risked life and limb to get here, I doubt that you plan on going back to Washington," Berman said. He shook his head and saw that Ziva did as well. "Well this storm is going to do some good. I checked with Elsie and she's got a couple rooms at the Farmhouse for you. The skiers who were going to take the rooms decided to stay home. It's a shame. They're going to miss out on some great fresh powder."

"I thought you didn't think we were coming," he said eyeing the Sheriff.

"No," Berman corrected. "I didn't think you'd make it. Doesn't mean that I didn't think you'd try. But I'm going to guess you've been all over the place as a marine and learned how to drive in the snow. I was stationed in Charleston, South Carolina for a while. We got a couple of inches of snow and you would have thought it was Armageddon. People panicked and cleared out the bread, milk and toilet paper out of every store for miles."

He smiled slightly at that. "Grew up in Pennsylvania," he replied.

Berman nodded in understanding. "What about you Agent David?"

"There is not a lot of snow in Israel," she said. "But I have found that knowing how to handle a vehicle can help one to deal with inclement weather." She looked at the photos of the car. "Were they dressed for such weather?"

He looked at Berman while the man thought. But he glanced at Ziva, grateful that she had asked the question he had been thinking about.

"They probably weren't dressed for a cross country hike," Berman said. "But they had on good boots, sweaters and heavy coats. If they were like the Pea Coat I had in the Navy, they shouldn't be too bad off."

"Even after nine hours in this weather?" he asked.

Berman didn't reply but that was answer enough.

"Anyway, as I was saying," he said finally. "Since those skiers canceled, Elsie has a couple of open rooms over at the Farmhouse. It's a bed and breakfast just down the street. It's also something of a local watering hole and restaurant. She'll take care of you while you're here."

He nodded. "You mind if I take the evidence with me?" he asked.

Berman shook his head. "Course not. Just give me your signature and it's all yours," Berman replied. "Do you want the original digital versions too?" He nodded again. "I'll be right back then."

After Berman left, he said, "Dust everything for prints. If you get something, send it back to Abby."

Ziva asked, "Is something wrong? Do you have a reason to distrust the Sheriff?"

"No. I just don't have a reason to trust him," he replied softly.

She opened her mouth to ask for clarification but the Sheriff had returned, cutting her off. Berman held out a memory stick which he immediately handed to Ziva, knowing that she would know how to deal with the technology. He then signed the form for the evidence transfer and stood.

Berman followed them from the conference room. "The Farmhouse is one block down on the opposite side of the street. I'll contact you there if I get any news," Berman said.

He nodded and left the police station. They got into the car.

"Why do you not trust the Sheriff?" she asked.

"Because until I know what's going on with the Dunning family, I can't rule him out as an accomplice. He's the one who sent Tim and Tony to Jack Dunning's house," he replied as he started the car.

"He could have run them off the road," she finished. "And fired on them to prevent them from collecting their bags."

He didn't reply but he could tell that his expression was enough to confirm his thoughts. He drove down the street and pulled into a small parking area beside a large old house.

They got out of the car and collected their bags before entering the house.

The old house must have been a grand estate in its heyday but had been converted into a more social space. The den, formal dining area and sitting room had been opened and a counter with a dozen stools had been constructed near the kitchen. The sitting area to the left held several sofas and overstuff chairs while the dining area to the right held several well-scrubbed wooden tables. Both areas had fireplaces with bright fires in the grates. It was a strange cross between a diner, lounge, restaurant and ski lodge.

"Agent Gibbs and David." He looked up and saw an older woman approaching them. "Mark called and said you were coming over. My name is Elsie Taylor." She reached out her hand so he shook it. "I'm sorry to hear about your agents."

He didn't respond as he examined her.

Elsie was in her forties or her fifties and had close-cropped, untidy, salt and pepper hair. She was a sturdy woman, but he thought it was more muscle than flab. She was dressed in jeans, work boots and a heavy sweater. From her calloused hands, he could see that she was used to hard work.

After a moment, she shook her head. She seemingly had expected him to answer but she wasn't going to get a concession from him. She spoke like his boys were dead and he knew that they weren't.

"Here are your keys," she said as she walked over to the counter. She reached under it and pulled out several keys. "Welcome to the Farmhouse. This is Hastings' idea of an all in one hotel and restaurant. We serve breakfast, lunch and dinner here."

He nodded.

"Dinner will be ready in an hour. Right now, you're my only guests so it'll just be the five of us unless some of the locals pop in but I'm not expecting anyone with this storm at least right now."

"Five?" Ziva asked.

"My husband and son," she replied. "We live next door but do most of our eating here. I take care of the rooms and my son cooks. He's saving up to go to culinary school. It's a family business." He nodded. "My husband maintains this old house, which can be a lot of work at times. Anyway, you'll want to settle in after your long drive. Your rooms are on the second floor. The bathroom is at the end of the hall and there is a powder room by the stairs. Let me know if you need anything."

He nodded and started up the stairs. He reached his door and watched as Ziva did the same. He motioned for her to join him. She nodded and after depositing her bag, she followed him into his room.

The room was simple but nice. It only contained a bed covered with a heavy quilt, a small chest of drawers and a small desk. He tossed his bag onto the bed before pulling the photos from the folder.

"What don't you see?" he asked.

She took a moment and looked through the photos. "Blood," she said after a moment. "The cabin of the car was crushed by the impact with the tree. There should have been blood on the airbags and perhaps they should have been trapped inside given how much the underside of the dash has caved in." She looked at him. "All is not what it seems with this accident. Is this why you do not trust the Sheriff? Do you think he had a hand in their disappearance?"

"It's possible," he replied as he looked at the photos. "Something isn't lining up."

He couldn't put his finger on what was bothering him about this situation. But he had a feeling he knew why he was having difficulty sorting things out. He was distracted because his two boys were missing.

Suddenly his phone rang. He had barely answered it before he heard Abby on the other end. "Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs! Zeke got back to me. They're connected."

"Easy Abs," he said as he looked at the wall. "What's connected?"

"The drugs! I ran chemical composition tests on the drugs you found in Corporal Dunning's apartment and they matched the exact same chemical composition of drugs in an active DEA investigation."

"Do they know where the drugs are from?"

"No," she said deflating. "In fact, they have no clue. This meth has been on the market for a few years. Zeke says that they are probably from a pretty small supplier, which is helping them avoid being caught. Or they may be a mobile operation. Or hidden in the woods. Or..."

"They have no idea," he supplied.

"Yeah," Abby replied. "His best guess is that the source is within a hundred miles of Washington."

"That is large area," Ziva said.

"Almost thirty-two thousand square miles," Abby said. "Actually, thirty-one thousand, four-hundred fifteen square miles."

"Abs," he said drawing her back to the point.

"Right, Zeke is forwarding their case report but it doesn't sound like it is going to be helpful."

"You never know. Send it to Ziva," he said. "Ziva'll be sending you photos of Tony and McGee's car. Something isn't right. Analyze them and see if we're missing anything." Abby didn't respond and her silence told him what she was thinking. "They're not dead Abs. They're just missing. I need you to help me find them."

"Ok," she said dourly. "Are there search teams out looking for them?"

"Can't," he replied. It killed him to say that. He wanted nothing more than to be out there searching for them. But he knew that if he went out there now, he could very well get himself lost and in need of rescuing, especially in a blizzard and unfamiliar territory. "Can't risk sending out search teams into a blizzard. As soon as this storm lets up, we'll be out there."

Abby sighed heavily.

"I don't like it any more than you do Abs. But you need to do your job so that you can help Tim and Tony. We need to find anything that might tell us what happened to them."

"I know," she replied. "As soon as I get that report, I'll send it to Ziva. Let me know if you find anything."

"You know I will," he replied. He hung up the phone and looked at Ziva. "We're going to have to complete a subtle investigation of this town Ziva. It might be the only way to determine what really happened to Tony and McGee."


	9. Bitter Memories

A/N: One of the things I miss from the show, especially the later seasons, was the friendship between Tim and Tony. Re-watching some of the early seasons really punctuated how much both characters changed and how they grew into good friends. So, just a little more introspection before we get back to the Dunnings.

* * *

"Ok," he said. "I think that this is going to work."

"You said that four hours ago," Tony replied curtly. "And all we got was some singed pieces of tarp."

"Yeah well, I'm making this up as I go Tony," he retorted as he worked. "It'd be a lot easier to MacGyver a solution if I had a Swiss army knife, a gum wrapper and some duct tape." Tony snorted, and he watched as Tony smiled, clearly in spite of himself. He smiled slightly too. But then again, it was easier to smile now that they were warm and dry. "Actually, I could really use a couple of fish hooks and some fishing line right about now."

"I think that ship has sailed, McGee," Tony said. "What are you trying to do?"

"Ok," he said. "So, we put the snow in here," he said pointing to a roughly bowl-shaped rock that was slightly propped up over the fire. "The idea is to suspend this piece of tarp above it so that when the snow boils away, the steam is caught. The then water condenses and drips down onto the piece of tarp and into the bottles."

"Makes sense," Tony said as he surveyed the rig that he was putting the finishing touches on. "Doesn't look too sturdy though."

"It isn't," he replied as he sat up. He reached outside and grabbed a couple handfuls of snow to test out his rig. "Be careful not to bump it."

"Right, I'll just move over to the sitting room and get out of the kitchen," Tony replied sarcastically.

He slid backwards away from the fire, wiping his hands on his jeans. Even at the rear of the cave, they would have to be careful, especially when they lay down to sleep.

"Nice job McGee," Tony said.

"I'm not so sure about that. We still need to see if it works," he replied. "At least it killed four hours. When we eat the tuna, we can boil the water in the cans directly. That'll be easier, but it'll still take a lot of time. Those cans won't hold a lot and we need to boil the water for a full two minutes. But we need to keep those water bottles filled. It's just as easy to dehydrate here as in the desert."

"And use a sizable pile of our wood," Tony replied.

He followed Tony's gaze. They had a decent pile of wood left, but it wouldn't last the night. He glanced at his watch. It was nearly ten o'clock. If he were to guess, they had enough wood to last at least four more hours if they were stingy. They had used more than he had expected to get a good base of coals, so they could burn wet wood.

"We can't let that fire go out," he said. "Unless you want to do some man cuddling?"

"McGee," Tony said. "Of all the people in the world to spend the night with…"

"I know," he said cutting Tony off knowing what he was going to say. He'd prefer some hot woman to cuddle with and he didn't blame his partner. He'd prefer a woman too. "I'm not high on the list."

"No," Tony said firmly. "You're at the top of the list. Ok so a really hot woman would be at the top of the list, but you are near the top of the list. You're my partner and together we can do almost anything." Tony let that sink in before he added, "Because we have 'pah.'"

He snorted.

"You know, I still don't know what that is," he said.

"Doesn't matter," Tony retorted. "We have it." Rolling his eyes, he didn't argue with Tony. "But that doesn't mean I want to spoon with you if I can help it."

"The feeling is mutual Tony," he said dryly even though he was touched by Tony's words.

"Can we safely go out for more wood?" Tony asked as he looked at the door.

"Well it's dark and we're in the middle of a blizzard," he said as he scooted forward to peer between the branches of their door. "But we have light from our cave to guide us. We just need to keep it in sight. We don't seem to have much of an alternative. Without a fire, this cave wouldn't be any warmer than out there."

Tony nodded. "Ok," Tony said as he pulled on his coat.

Their cave had warmed enough that they could shed their heavy winter coats and use them as additional padding. They had both dressed for the weather when they left Washington earlier that morning. He was wearing his field boots, thick socks, a pair of jeans, and a heavy sweater layered over a long-sleeved t-shirt. Tony was similarly attired but even with his winter coat, it wasn't enough for an extended time outside in this weather.

"The worst part is that I was finally warm and dry," Tony said sourly.

"I know," he replied as he pulled on his coat followed by his scarf and Kara's hat and gloves. "It'll be worth it later."

Tony nodded as he grabbed the small axe. Bracing themselves, they pushed open the door and stepped out into the snow. Luckily the light from the fire was bright enough for them to keep their cave in sight. He glanced around. The snow seemed to have eased a bit but it was still coming down heavily.

After some searching, they found another downed tree and worked to pry it loose from the frozen ground. After nearly ten minutes of heaving and prying, they got it loose and started to cut it up and bring it back to their temporary home. By the time they had finished restocking their supply, they were soaked, sweaty, and their cave had chilled.

He pulled their door over the cave mouth and sealed off the opening as best as he could while Tony stoked the fire. Then he checked to make sure that there were still several air vents.

"We're going to have to make sure the air vents don't get covered with snow through the night," he said as he took a seat next to Tony again. "We should probably take turns watching the fire."

Tony looked from their fire to their door and nodded.

"Your rig works," Tony said as he pointed to the small puddle of water on the floor of the cave.

"Good," he replied as he took a cautious sip of water. He then poured the remainder into the second bottle before he situated the empty bottle under the tarp and reloading the rig with snow. "We're going to need it," he said as Tony took a sip of water.

"Especially since we don't know how long we'll be here?" Tony asked.

He looked at his partner. "I didn't want to say it," he muttered.

"You didn't say it _very_ loudly, Probie," Tony said. "We're going to have to ration that food too." He nodded in agreement. "And probably the amount of wood we use. We can't keep digging out trees that we can chop into firewood with a small axe."

"Agreed," he said as he grabbed more snow to replace what was already melting.

When he was done piling snow onto the rock, he wiped his hands on his jeans and pulled off his boots and socks. He set them next to Tony's to dry. He shivered. "At least the last time we were stuck together in the middle of nowhere, we were warm and dry."

"That was the desert, Tim," Tony retorted. "There wasn't any water let alone temperatures cold enough to make snow."

"I know that," he replied.

"So, why'd you bring it up?"

"I guess I'm just seeing some parallels," he said as he wiggled his toes. "We're out on our own, there are people that want to kill us and we're waiting for Gibbs to come to our rescue."

"Big difference is: last time we had been captured by terrorists," Tony retorted as he stacked up some of the wet wood around their fire to dry. "And I'm not planning on waiting on Gibbs. Not that I would turn down a rescue right about now."

"True," he conceded. "At least we're not being held captive by the Dunnings."

Tony rubbed his hands together in front of their fire. "If I'm forced between choosing being captured and warm or free and cold, I'll take the free and cold. Besides the Dunning clan has nothing on Saleem and his terrorist buddies. I'd rather take my chances with Pa Dunning."

He nodded in concession but it was mostly so he didn't start an argument. Jack Dunning had a lot of advantages over them. He probably was a hunter, had a superior weapon and he also knew the area. And it didn't hurt that he was probably going to wait out this storm someplace warm, dry and well stocked.

He glanced at Tony. He was looking at the fire but his thoughts were nine thousand miles away.

"I've been wondering," Tony said suddenly. He twitched slightly, startled at the sound of Tony's voice. "Why did you agree to go to Somalia?"

Trying to play nonchalant, he replied, "Well you banged down my door in the middle of the night and said we were going to Somalia."

"Yeah and you could have told me to go to hell," Tony replied seeing through him. He looked at his partner. Tony was thoughtful. "I banged down your door in the middle of the night to tell you I had volunteered you for a suicide mission. You _should_ have told me to go to hell, Tim."

"Probably," he replied with a shrug. "It would have been nice if you had given me the opportunity to volunteer myself."

"Volunteer yourself? Given the choice, you would have gone anyway?" Tony asked incredulously.

"I _chose_ to go, Tony," he replied as he looked at Tony so his friend knew he was telling the truth. "Even if you volunteered me in the first place, you're right, I could have told you I wasn't going to go. But the thought never crossed my mind. Seriously," he said honestly. Tony looked surprised. He returned his gaze to the fire. "Someone had to keep you out of trouble," he said with a half-smile as he glanced sideways at his partner.

Tony clearly didn't believe that. "Come on, McGee. We both know that wasn't the whole reason." He smiled at that. Tony didn't deny that he needed to be kept out of trouble. "Why would you risk your life on a long-shot chance to take out some terrorist halfway around the world?" He continued to gaze at the fire. He thought about his reasons. There had been more than one reason for him to go so he didn't respond right away. "Tim?" Tony asked, prompting him.

"For Sarah," he said softly as he watched the flames flicker.

"What?" Tony asked, surprised.

"For Sarah," he repeated as he turned to look at his partner. She had been his number one reason for going. But having his partner's back came in a close second.

Tony shook his head. Obviously, that wasn't the answer he had expected.

"I don't get it, McGee."

"Saleem Ulman was a dangerous man, Tony. I saw it firsthand when I went with Gibbs to Los Angeles. He had trained and sent a terrorist sleeper cell to L.A. That cell was working to obtain heavy weaponry and explosives and they were going to attack a target in L.A. What was to stop him from sending more people to attack another target?"

"Like Washington?" Tony asked.

He nodded. "If I could do something, anything, to prevent an attack, I had to do it. My sister might not have been harmed but someone's sister could have. Even if it was a half-crazy plan that could have and probably should have gotten us killed. Even if Saleem's men never would have attacked Washington, I still had to do something."

Tony looked at him. "That puts things into perspective," Tony said.

He smiled lightly. "There's another reason," he said. Tony looked at him inquisitively. "My partner was determined to go through with this crazy plan to take out a terrorist and he needed someone to watch his back." He looked at his partner. "And I wasn't going to leave that up to anyone else."

Tony put a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks man. It means a lot to me that you'd do that for me."

"It's no different than what you've done for me, Tony," he replied sincerely.

"You better use some of these warm fuzzy bonding moments we're having here in your book, McGee. This is good stuff," Tony said breaking the serious tone.

He snorted. "Yeah well MacGregor and DeLuca aren't as far along in their friendship as we are."

"That's a good thing," Tony said. He must have looked confused because Tony added, "If this had been ten years ago, I'm not sure we could have survived each other let alone the weather and the Dunnings!"

"That's the truth," he replied.

While they had been partners to start, he would hardly say that they had been friends and they had butted heads on their methods more often than not. Tony had been brash and pompous at times and he had been assured of his superior intellect and ability to think through any problem.

But time and experience had changed them. They knew each other well enough to communicate without words. They trusted each other without question and worked well together. And they would do anything for each other. Maybe that's what Tony meant when he said that they had 'pah.'

Tony grinned. "Ok, I'll bite," Tony said. "So how far along are they?"

He thought about it for a moment. The exact moment came to mind and despite the bad memory, a slight smile crossed features.

"DeLuca is still hazing his Probie, trying to toughen him up," he said. "They're at the point where DeLuca comforts MacGregor after he feels like he's screwed up so badly that he doesn't deserve to be a Federal Agent with a gun. He convinces MacGregor that he's good at his job and that he shouldn't give up." Tony still didn't follow so he added, "Like I felt after I killed that cop and you came to my apartment to cheer me up." Tony looked touched. "They make some progress, but MacGregor has a ways to go yet before he feigns being unconscious in a shack in Somalia."

He tried to keep his tone light, but he had a feeling he had failed.

He wasn't sure why he brought up Somalia again. They had moved on from that topic. But he and Tony had never really discussed what had happened. Well they had discussed it, just not with each other. He had made his report to Gibbs and they had spoken to a psychologist for their psych eval but in the three years since, he and Tony hadn't talked about what happened in Somalia.

Tony glanced at him and opened his mouth, but he shut it without saying a word. He thought Tony looked like he was trying to figure out just what to say. But he knew what it was that Tony wanted to ask.

Finally, he spoke. "I'll understand if you don't want to talk about what happened, Tim," Tony said carefully. "But…"

"You want to know what happened before they dumped me on the floor of your room?" he asked astutely.

He had a feeling that Tony had wanted to ask him this question for a long time. Tony had made light of his condition in Somalia shortly after they had returned and before Ziva had been reinstated. He had been annoyed at the way Tony had so casually dismissed what had happened but he also knew that Tony used humor to avoid serious conversations.

"Yeah," Tony said, examining him with concern. "But I'll understand if you don't want to say anything. I mean, you didn't say anything when we got back. I thought maybe things were too…" Tony paused as he searched for the right words. "Hard to talk about? That's why I never asked."

"I didn't want to not talk about what happened," he said. "But I didn't feel like I needed to talk either."

Tony thought for a second as he worked that out.

"Does that mean you want to talk about it?" Tony asked hesitantly.

"Just ask, Tony," he said.

"Fine," Tony said. "What the hell happened?"

"You've wanted to ask this for years, haven't you?" he asked.

Tony snorted. "Before the truth serum, Saleem went for the psychological warfare. He told me that if I didn't answer his questions that you'd suffer the consequences."

He looked at Tony, startled. Just as he hadn't talked about his experience in Somalia, Tony hadn't said much either. He was only aware of what had happened after he had regained consciousness in Tony's room. He hadn't been aware that they had threatened him with harm if Tony didn't talk.

"They wanted me to tell why we had come looking for Saleem. They said they'd stop if I talked…" Tony spoke haltingly and wasn't looking at him. "I could hear…it wasn't loud. But I could hear."

"The terrorists beating me?" he asked supplying the words that Tony didn't seem to want to say. Tony looked startled. "What? You shouldn't be surprised Tony. You said you heard and you saw what I looked like afterwards. You had to have known what was happening."

"Yeah," Tony said. "I knew. But I didn't expect you to be so flippant about it. I mean, hell, Tim. You had terrorists beating the crap out of you, trying to get information on why we were looking for Saleem Ulman by name. And it was my fault. I couldn't say anything and I knew that wasn't helping you. I'm sorry, man."

"It's ok Tony," he said sincerely. "They weren't trying to injure me, just cause some pain and scare me into talking. Besides, it wasn't your fault. You know, that right?"

"It felt like it was though because I could have stopped it sooner," he said with a sigh. "If I had just said something."

"If you had said something, they might have just killed us instead," he replied bluntly. That got Tony's attention. "But because I held out and because you held out, Saleem changed tactics. He put us in the same room and he tried the truth serum. Maybe because of that, we're both alive and maybe because of that, we were able to rescue Ziva. Did you think of that?"

"The thought crossed my mind," Tony replied. "I knew we were only valuable to them if we withheld why we were there. But it doesn't mean that I didn't feel guilty for what was happening to you. I know people underestimate you all the time McGee. Let's face it; you don't look as tough as you really are."

He smiled. As strange as it was, that was actually a compliment from Tony.

"But all I could think of was my Probie, my friend, the guy I was supposed to be protecting, _my partner_." Tony emphasized those two words, which brought a smile to his face. "Was being beaten by terrorists and I couldn't stop it."

"Strangely there isn't much difference between a terrorist beating you up for information and a football jock roughing you up because you're smarter than him," he said thoughtfully.

Tony stared at him slack jawed for a second. He grinned at his friend. Tony shook his head and smiled at him. "I bet you never thought high school bullying would do you good later in life."

"No, I didn't," he replied honestly. "But really, it wasn't that bad."

"Wasn't that bad?" Tony asked incredulously. "Tim. I heard. It didn't sound like it wasn't that bad. What really happened to you?"

He frowned as he was transported back to the shack in Africa. Even after all these years, the memories were still fresh. "I wasn't conscious the whole time," he replied. "When I woke up my hands were bound but my feet were free. I paced for a while before I sat down. I guess I fell asleep because I woke up with three guys trying to pick me up. In the scuffle, I managed to knock one out and knock down a second before the third clocked me."

"Respectable, especially with your hands tied," Tony said. He smiled in appreciation. "I'd have been more impressed if your hands were tied behind your back."

He pulled a face at his partner causing Tony to grin. "Anyway," he said returning to his story. "You probably heard some of that and thought it was me on the receiving end." Tony nodded. "When I woke up again, Saleem was in the room and with the three goons. He started to ask me the same questions he asked you."

"But you didn't answer," Tony replied.

He shook his head. "And when I didn't…"

"They took it out on you," Tony finished.

"Yeah," he replied. Suddenly he shrugged. "Like I said, they weren't trying to do permanent damage. They wanted answers and they couldn't get it if they killed me. And as long as I was alive, they'd have leverage over you. Anyway, I passed out a couple of times. When I woke up the third time I was in the room with you."

"When they brought you in, I wasn't sure if I should be relieved or terrified," Tony said. He watched the various emotions play across his friend's face. It was one of those rare times that Tony allowed himself to show his emotions instead of hiding them behind his humor. "On one hand, I was glad to see you still alive. I had half expected to hear a gunshot ending it all."

He snorted. "Yeah, me too," he replied.

"On the other hand," Tony continued. "You were out cold and didn't answer me. I had no idea how badly you were hurt or if they had just tossed you in my cell so they could shoot you. Or if maybe they were going to continue with their torture in front of me…"

"Hey," he said stopping Tony from continuing.

Tony smiled ruefully. "Right. Well. I was worried."

"I can see that," he replied. "Thanks. Believe me, I was worried about you too. You heard them beating me, but they told me you were dead because you refused to talk, and they told me I would be too if I didn't tell them what they wanted to know." Tony looked surprised. "I wasn't going to believe them until I saw it with my own eyes."

"Rule number three," they said simultaneously.

"Don't believe what you're told," Tony said softly. "Double check."

"Yeah," he replied. "It was really good to hear your voice when I woke up on that floor."

Tony nodded. "So, were you really awake the whole time?" Tony asked. "I mean, you looked pretty unconscious when they dumped you in the room. And you didn't react when Saleem kicked you after he shot me up with the truth serum."

He closed his eyes and strained his memory. Some bits were still fuzzy. He remembered waking up to the sounds of two men talking. He didn't know who was talking but he quickly realized that they weren't talking to him.

Eventually he had identified one of the voices as Tony's and while he wasn't unconscious, he knew he wasn't fully conscious either. That changed after Saleem kicked him onto his back. For some reason, the change in position brought him close enough to consciousness that he knew he should continue to play possum.

"I was awake but I can't say that I could tell what you were saying," he replied. "I really didn't fully come to until Saleem kicked me onto my back. I heard you talking but it was like you were speaking another language. Most of it didn't make sense. Effects of the concussion, I guess."

"Oh, so you didn't hear my assessment of the team," Tony said. He sounded disappointed.

He strained his memory. "Small muscles, big brain, heart of a lion," he said without thinking. He glanced at Tony, who was grinning. "You really think that?"

"Yeah," Tony replied. "I thought you couldn't tell what we were saying."

He looked at Tony. "For some reason, those words stuck in my brain." Suddenly he grinned. "That and 'coffee aficionado and functional mute.'" Tony grinned. "That is the best description I've ever heard of Gibbs."


	10. Frigid Thoughts

_A/N: We're over halfway there, folks. Thanks to everyone who's still hanging in there and to everyone leaving reviews. Consider this the mid-episode recap before we roll into the final chapters to resolve everything. I'd also like to wish everyone a happy and healthy New Year._

* * *

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He looked at the alarm clock on the nearby bedside table.

Two o'clock.

Despite his best attempts, he hadn't fallen asleep yet and he knew why. It wasn't that the bed was unfamiliar or uncomfortable. It was that he had too many things, too many scenarios, running through his head to allow himself to relax and fall asleep. But mostly, he was worried about Tony and McGee.

He needed to find the one piece that would make sense out of the disjointed evidence they had in this case. And he wasn't going to get that while lying in bed. He did his best thinking on his feet.

If he were at home, he'd work in his basement. He didn't have that here, but the next best thing would be pacing the common room.

Kicking his feet out from under the covers, he ran his hands through his hair one more time before he stood up. He pulled on jeans, his boots and a marine corps sweatshirt. As he left, he looked at the DEA file and the photos from the crash scene sitting under his go bag on the desk but left them. He had already read the report a dozen times. He didn't need to read it again.

Leaving, he locked his door and pocketed the key.

He sighed lightly as he walked down the stairs and into the inn's common room. The room was only lit by a small lamp near the door and the barely glowing embers in the fireplaces, but it was enough to see his way.

He walked through the darkness to the window in the lounge area and looked outside. The snow blew furiously past the window, illuminated by the streetlights.

He usually liked the snow and the sense of calmness that came with the hushed noises of civilization. But tonight, all he could think of was Tim and Tony spending the night in the open.

They were opposites in nearly every sense. Tony, the jock and Tim, the geek. They really didn't have much in common and both approached their jobs in very different manners. Tony had the instincts of a cop and Tim relied on logic. They were ying and yang and when combined, they balanced each other and made a great team.

Between the two of them, he knew he shouldn't worry. Tim was too smart and Tony had too much common sense. The combination of the two should be enough for them to survive even the sub-freezing blizzard that raged outside of the warm confines of the old house.

But his paternal instinct still worried about his boys.

"Agent Gibbs," Elsie said, causing him to turn around. She was dressed in pajamas, a long winter coat and snow boots. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"No," he said, wondering how she knew he was up and about and how she managed to enter the room without him noticing. Was this how his agents felt when he suddenly appeared behind them?

"We have a sensor on the stairs in the house," she explained as she pointed at the steps. "You aren't the first guest to need something in the middle of the night." He nodded. "Can't sleep?" He shook his head. "Do you need an extra pillow or blanket?"

He shook his head again and turned his gaze towards the window.

She seemed to understand. "You're worried about your people," she said as she joined him at the window. He nodded. "I can understand that. They're out there and you're in here."

He nodded.

"You're a man of few words, Agent Gibbs," she said with a slight smile.

He smiled lightly at that. He'd never been accused of being talkative.

"There isn't much to say about the situation," he said.

"It isn't much comfort, but accidents happen. That's the way life goes sometimes," she said. He frowned. The more he thought about it, the less he believed what happened had been an accident. "You don't think it was an accident?" she asked surprised. He looked at her, telling her with his eyes that he wasn't going to talk with her about it. "Fair enough, either you can't or won't talk about it. I understand. Well if you're going to be up a while, feel free to toss a couple logs on the fire. It ought to be warm enough yet to catch."

He nodded as she turned to leave. He might just do that. The common room was a little chilly. "Are you sure I can't get you something. A drink maybe? We have a small stock under the counter, if you'd like."

A glass of Bourbon didn't sound bad but alcohol wasn't the answer right now. He needed something to soothe his nerves not numb them. "Coffee?" he asked as he joined her at the counter.

"Coffee?" she asked surprised. "You'll be up all night," she warned.

He smiled at that. "That isn't the problem right now," he replied.

"That's a good point," she conceded as she hurried behind the counter. She quickly filled the machine and set it to brewing. "If you decide you need something to eat to go with that coffee, help yourself to anything you find in the kitchen. Cream is in the fridge."

"Don't need cream," he replied as she placed a mug on the counter. "Or sugar."

She nodded, patted his arm sympathetically and left.

While the coffee was brewing, he walked over to the fireplace and grabbed a couple small pieces of wood. He stirred up the coals and found that they were still glowing.

Placing the wood on the fire, he added some bits of stray bark as tinder and watched until it caught fire.

Suddenly, he frowned.

He wondered if Tim and Tony had the benefit of a fire tonight or were they freezing to death out in the woods even as he had the benefit of a roof over his head and fire to keep warm?

He shook his head to shake away the guilt he felt for being inside and warm on a night like this. For all he knew, Tim and Tony were holed up in a hunting cabin with a fire and provisions and they'd turn up after the storm, laughing about the situation. It wouldn't do him any good to think dark thoughts.

By the time the fire was burning steadily, the coffee had finished brewing so he poured himself a cup before he returned to the fire and took a seat in one of the armchairs. He took a cautious sip of the coffee and was impressed by the quality.

Returning his gaze to the fire, his thoughts returned to his agents. He would always fiercely protect those on his team. It was a product of his Marine training and it was something you couldn't unlearn although he didn't think that anyone would want to. But after all this time, they had gone through so much together and he had come to care for his team like they were his family.

That wasn't to say that their family hadn't been tested and shown some cracks. Tony had kept his mission with Jenny and La Grenouille from them and the mission to find the microchips from Watcher Fleet as well. Tim had concealed the real reason for Vance breaking up their team for months while he worked from the Cyber division. And Ziva had concealed her reasons for coming to NCIS after killing Ari and her relationship with Rivkin that ended with him dead and her a prisoner of terrorists.

He knew he wasn't innocent in the matter either. He had kept the death of his family a secret and he was sure there were other things he had concealed from his team that could have helped them along the way.

He frowned as he sipped his coffee. There wasn't any sense of worrying about the 'what ifs.' All those things had happened and he knew all too well that it couldn't change the past. He could only focus on the present and the future.

And for the most part, things had turned out well in the end even if the path getting there had been rocky. La Grenouille was dead and they had recovered the Watcher Fleet microchips. Once Tim had been given clearance to read him in on his mission, he had been open and candid about everything and he had never had a reason to distrust Tim again.

Ziva had been forced to endure three months in the hands of Saleem Ulman but his boys had never given up on her. They found her, brought her home and accepted her back into the fold.

Even after so much time had passed, he still regretted that he had left Ziva behind. He had allowed his anger to get the best of him. But she had forced him to choose between herself and Tony and given the events surrounding Rivkin and her divided loyalties, he had easily chosen Tony's side. But he still hated that he had been forced to choose.

When he found out that Tim and Tony had been searching for her the whole time, he couldn't have been more proud, especially when he realized how much they had found, including Saleem Ulman, the untraceable terrorist. He had wanted to take down Saleem since dealing with the terrorist cell in Los Angeles.

Their effort had culminated with their mission to Somalia, which had been risky at best and some would have considered it suicidal. Someone who didn't know Tim and Tony might think that they were trying to get themselves killed. But, he knew better, and he knew that his agents didn't have a death wish. They knew the risks and went on the mission anyway because neither of them lacked courage.

He hadn't admitted it to anyone but he had been extremely worried that one or both of his boys would be killed. And yet he hadn't discouraged them from taking on the mission. It was their duty to protect their country even at the risk of their lives.

But that didn't matter in the long run. His fears hadn't come true. His boys had come home safe and they had found Ziva. He had been unspeakably proud of both of them for taking on the difficult and dangerous task to take down a dangerous terrorist.

He sighed when he realized his cup was empty. Standing up, he added another log to the fire before he returned to the counter to refill his mug. When he returned to the lounge with his coffee, he moved to the window and watched the snow while he contemplated that mission.

At first, he hadn't been sure why Tim had agreed to go to Somalia to get Saleem. Tony had volunteered him. The mission wasn't something to agree to without some thought towards the consequences. Added to that was the military nature of the mission. Tim had grown by leaps and bounds as an agent, but this was well out of his training and experience. Hell, it was even out of Tony's training and experience.

But above all things, Tony was stubborn and determined to go on the mission even if it meant going alone. But Tim was loyal to his friends and he was courageous. If Tony was bound and determined to go, Tim would be at his side.

He sipped his coffee.

It was hard to describe the feeling of relief that he felt when he saw them standing at the end of the hallway. Seeing that they were alive, if a little battered, had removed a heavy weight from his shoulders. And, of course, they had Ziva supported between them. His gut had told him that Ziva hadn't gone down with the Damocles but to see her there had been a relief even if she seemed to be a shade of former self.

Tony's reason for going to Somalia had been completely different than Tim's. Part of it had been to take down a dangerous terrorist. Part of it was feeling the need to complete his partner's last mission. Part of it was to gain vengeance for Ziva's death. And part of it was to alleviate the pain he suffered because he felt that he was responsible for her death.

He knew that Tony knew he wasn't responsible for Ziva feeling betrayed by her father and by Tony. Tony knew that he wasn't responsible for Rivkin going off the rails. Tony knew that he had killed Rivkin out of self-preservation. But he also knew that Tony felt guilty that he hadn't been able to prevent any of the events that led to Ziva staying behind in Israel.

He had felt the same way when Shannon and Kelley had died. He knew that he hadn't been responsible for their deaths but he had carried the guilt of their deaths with him for many years. He still carried that weight but it was easing with time and with the evolution of his new and unconventional family.

Tony, who had been very nearly orphaned by his own father. Tim, who had been independent since he had gone to college at fifteen. Ziva, whose father had coldly raised her and her brother to be assassins.

As strange as it was, they were his family now. And his two boys were missing. They weren't dead. His gut told him that much, but he was worried. He couldn't lose two of them at the same time and the longer they were out in the elements, the greater the chance that he would lose them.

He sighed as he stood and walked over to the coffee pot for another refill.

Worst of all, he still didn't know why they were missing.

It wasn't much but he brought the facts of the case to mind.

Marine Corporal Brian Dunning had been found dead in his apartment, which showed no signs of forced entry. He died of an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound that wasn't self-inflicted.

They had found a large stash of drugs in his apartment which they had found to be chemically the same as the drugs responsible for the death of one of his buddies and for nearly killing a second. Those same drugs had been traced to a DEA case that had few, if any, leads.

Dunning didn't have any history of drugs and they hadn't found any evidence of money he would have made from the drugs. He drove a six-year-old pickup truck that he bought used and lived in a modest, furnished, off-base apartment building. Aside from a large screen television and latest gaming system and a dozen games, he didn't have any expensive items in his apartment.

And their only inkling of a lead was that Dunning had argued with one of his uncles. But they didn't know what the argument had been about. And when he sent his agents to interview Dunning's family, Tim and Tony disappeared.

He returned to the lounge area and looked outside at the blowing snow.

He had read the DEA case file several times over since Abby had sent it to them but with the information he had, it didn't tell him anything that might help. The DEA had been searching for the source of methamphetamines that were being distributed in Maryland, Virginia, the District, West Virginia and Pennsylvania. But all the dealers they had picked up couldn't lead them back to the source of the drugs. Three years into their investigation, the DEA thought that the drugs were possibly being manufactured in West Virginia.

But that's as far as they had managed to get. They had several leads but none of them held water. One of the DEA investigators had speculated that either the manufacturers had been trained by the military to evade the investigators or they had protection from local law enforcement. The frustration of the investigators grew more apparent as their case lingered without making any progress.

As for himself, he wasn't sure what to believe. Hastings was listed among the potential sites for the drug manufacturing but there wasn't any more evidence for or against Hastings than any of the other dozen towns listed in the report. He didn't think it was a coincidence that the drugs from Dunning's apartment matched the DEA case or that the drugs came from an area where Dunning had grown up. But he just didn't know how the drugs fit into their case yet and it definitely didn't tell him why Tim and Tony had gone missing.

Were the Dunnings hiding something? Was the Sheriff? Was it someone else in this town?

He returned to the chair and stared at the fire.

Right now, he just had to trust that he had trained them well enough to handle any situation. He trusted each of them with his life. He just wasn't sure that that they could survive the elements.

He glanced at the window at the flying snow. He had been trained to survive in nearly any environment but neither Tim nor Tony had any training that would help them through a blizzard. He knew Tim liked to camp but camping with gear was different than roughing it with nothing, especially in this kind of weather. And there was no one who was worse in the woods than Tony.


	11. Cold Blooded

With a sigh he stirred up the remains of their meager fire, noting that they were nearly out of wood and that was after Tim had rationed it through the night. They only had a few substantial pieces left and a large pile of twigs and bark, which wouldn't last long. They would have to go for more fuel as soon as it got light out.

The smaller fire was reflected in the cooler temperature inside their shelter. He was wearing his coat again and had put on the hat Kara had given him. One of their slightly worn quilts was wrapped around his legs but even so, he wasn't actually warm. But at least he wasn't shivering.

He glanced at his watch. It was almost six o'clock. Dawn was still at least an hour away.

He looked back at Tim. He was sleeping soundly under his coat and the other quilt, his head pillowed on his arm. His friend looked innocent, almost childlike, while sleeping. Not that Tim didn't look innocent and child-like when awake.

He had never wanted any siblings when he was a kid. He hadn't wanted the competition. But since coming to NCIS, he had become a part of one very strange family.

He had Gibbs, who had been more of a father to him in the twelve years he had worked at NCIS than his real father had been in his forty years of life. On that same vein, he had the weird Uncle Ducky and his second cousin Palmer; there was no way the autopsy gremlin was in his direct family tree even if he did offer sound advice on tough cases.

Abby would be a cousin too or maybe a sister. Tim was definitely the younger brother of the group and Ziva. He had no idea what Ziva was. Maybe she was the step-sister that didn't have any blood relations to the rest of the family. That had to be it, because otherwise he had all kinds of hinky conversations and thoughts that might have bordered on incest.

He shook his head to get rid of those thoughts. He had no idea what his feelings for Ziva were and he didn't want to think of her as any more than a partner. Rule number twelve. He couldn't break rule number twelve.

He took a deep breath and thought back to this past Christmas.

He hadn't been looking forward to his father's Christmas visit, especially since his father had planned to stay with him. It was an element of chaos introduced into his sanctuary, but he was trying to improve his relationship with his father. And he had to admit, it had felt like old times… right down to his father sleeping with the cougar from next door. That had been worse than knowing there had been a triple homicide in his place.

He had been furious with his father. But he also regretted sending his father away in anger and he had been grateful that Abby had brought his dad back to NCIS for their screening of _It's a Wonderful Life._ It had given them both a lot to think about and afterwards, they had both apologized for their actions. He didn't doubt it would be a rocky road but they both had reason to want it to work out.

Returning his gaze to Tim he realized that his friend wasn't as innocent as he looked on the outside. Some of the stories Tim told about his childhood on base convinced him that Tim was far craftier than he had ever been. Tim had to be sneaky if he wanted to get away with the things he did and apparently, he had succeeded.

And besides that, Tim had dated Abby and slept in her coffin. That took some serious guts. Or some serious feminine bribery from a certain wily Goth. He suspected that it was a little of both.

He pulled the quilt up to his chin and around his upper body. Their cave was rapidly cooling without the benefit of a larger fire.

With another sigh, he stood up and glanced out of one of their ventilation holes. Some of the blackness was lifting. The landscape was brightening to an ugly shade of gray filled with swirling snow.

He glanced down at Tim. McGee had stayed awake most of the night even though he had told Tim to wake him halfway through. If Tim hadn't cracked his head off the ceiling after stoking their fire, he would have bet good money that McGee would have stayed up the whole night.

He looked at his partner and wondered if this was what it was like to have a brother. Sure, they fought a lot but that was mostly because he instigated the fights. But Tim always had his back when he needed it and he would always have Tim's. And besides, Tim was fighting back now. Sometimes, Tim even gave as good as he got.

He smiled at that. That made things more interesting.

He would rather let McGee sleep while he slipped outside for more wood. He was about to do so when he heard several snowmobiles.

"Tim," he hissed, waking Tim with a rough shake.

"Wah?" Tim muttered as he sat up, his hair sticking up at odd angles.

"Someone's coming," he hissed.

"Rescuers?" Tim asked hopefully.

"No idea," he said. He held a finger up to his lips. Tim nodded in agreement.

"I thought I saw smoke here," said a voice. He recognized it.

He looked out the ventilation hole and through the heavy snow, he saw three men downslope. One was definitely Brian Dunning's father. He recognized his Carhartt hunting jacket with the orange blazes on the shoulders. By his beard, the other was Rick Dunning. He didn't recognize the third, but he had a really good guess.

"Pa Dunning," he muttered. Alarmed, Tim looked at their fire. Even though they had collected dead wood, it was soaked from the snow and wasn't properly seasoned. Their fire was putting up a lot of smoke.

Tim lurched to his feet and looked out the second ventilation hole. He looked again. The Dunnings were closer.

"Hold up a blanket to the crack," Tim said as he leaned down to grab the quilt. "If they see the smoke we're in trouble. No wait, use your coat. It's black."

He pulled off his coat and together they held it pressed against the opening. After a moment, their small cave began to fill with acrid smoke and they were forced to hold their breath.

"I don't see any smoke," muttered another voice.

"It's snowing so damn hard I don't see much of anything," said a third.

Even without seeing him, he recognized that third voice belonged to Rick Dunning, the youngest of the three brothers. He had been at Jack Dunning's house when they stopped to interview him about his son. They had interviewed Rick about his nephew but he didn't have much to say. He must have helped his older brother jump them as they left.

"And I don't smell no smoke either," said the second voice.

"Why are we out here in this blizzard anyway?" Rick asked. "Those Federal Agents probably didn't make it this far. They probably didn't even survive the night. They're city folk. They don't know how to survive off the land in a blizzard."

"Don't underestimate the Feds," Jack said. "They found my cabin and we don't know that they don't know how to survive off the land. Who knows what goes into their training? Just 'cause they're from the city doesn't mean they're stupid."

He looked at Tim and rolled his eyes. Tim looked at him and shook his head.

"And they've got supplies now, or did you forget that?" Jack asked.

"I didn't forget," Rick retorted. "I was the one that found her crying and the cabin all messed up."

"You believe her?" Jack asked. "That they forced their way in and took everything?"

"Yeah," Rick replied. "I asked her a few times about what happened, and she kept her story straight."

"Did she know where they were going?" the second voice asked as they got closer to their cave. That voice must belong to the middle brother, William.

"She said they asked how to get back to town," Rick said. "And she told them to go the wrong way." He glanced at Tim who shook his head. They had no way to know if Kara had lied to them or not. "They'll die of exposure before they realize they're wrong."

"They were supposed to die of exposure near where you dumped their car," Will muttered. "What if they live? They're going to come after us. They're armed now. We'd have to kill them outright." Will sounded nervous.

"Don't get cold feet now, Will," Jack said. "We're in too deep for that."

"I dunno," Will said hesitantly. "This is getting out of hand. Now you want to kill two Feds? It's bad enough we had to off your boy."

Given how loud their voices were, the men had to be standing just outside of their cave.

"He wasn't mine!" Jack muttered darkly. "You know that! And you know that he was going to spill the beans about the drugs. He was going to tell NCIS where our lab was."

"Was?"

"Jack and I spent most of yesterday tearing down the lab and hiding the evidence," Rick said. "It'll take weeks to get the operation up and running again."

"Better than if it's found and we're arrested," Jack retorted. "Which is why Brian had to be stopped. If it's anyone's fault, Will, it's yours for letting Brian see you."

"He was supposed to be in Afghanistan! Oh, this is bad," William said nervously. "When those two Feds don't show up, more of 'em are going to come nosing around. It'll only be a matter of time 'til they put the pieces together and find our lab."

"Their Fed friends have already showed up," Rick said. "I saw them while I was keeping watch on the town. I still don't know how he managed to drive here in that storm last night."

"Gibbs," he mouthed. Tim nodded. It was reassuring that Gibbs was in town and searching for them even if they were stuck in this cave until the storm blew itself out. At least they had someone on their side and like William said, he knew Gibbs would put the pieces together.

He took a shallow breath and had to cough into the crook of his arm. The smoke seared his lungs.

Alarmed, Tim looked at him then the cave opening. Tim motioned for him to hold the coat and once he had it in hand, Tim found and drew his Sig. He pointed to his weapon and took it from Tim when his partner rejoined him. He held the coat with his left hand and his weapon in his right with Tim mirroring him.

"They haven't come around asking questions," Jack said. To their relief, it didn't seem like they had heard him cough. "They're too busy looking for their friends."

"Not without a snowmobile, they can't," Rick said. "And Berman isn't going to organize search parties until this storm lets up."

"I don't blame him," William replied. "This storm is enough to get anyone turned around and lost."

"Come on," Jack said. "They probably wanted to put as much distance between them and the cabin. If they were smart they took the trail over the mountain back to town. It's just up ahead. Maybe we'll find them while they're walking back towards town."

"Well I know they didn't get back to town last night," Rick replied. "I spent half the night watching out for them. Nearly froze my ass off."

"They probably camped for the night, you idiot," Jack retorted. "If they did, they could be halfway to town by now. Double back and get Kara, Rick. We'll meet you at your place in town after we've searched for a while longer."

"What about the lab?" Rick asked. "We didn't finish."

"Too much of a risk to go back now," Jack said. "Not with this snow. It's hard enough to get to in good weather. We'll have to finish tearing down after this storm lets up."

"You don't think Berman is going to wonder what we were doing out here in this storm?" William asked.

"He knows my cabin is out this way and he knows Kara spends a lot of time out there. If he asks, we'll tell him we came back to town at first light rather than spend the storm in the cabin," Jack replied as they struggled to breath in the smoky cave. "We'll tell him that we're meeting at your place in town, Rick, just in case the power cuts out at my place like it did the last time we had a bad storm. And if those Feds didn't die and make it back into town, we can take care of them then. All of them."

His eyes were watering and he was trying not to breathe the smoky air, but it was proving next to impossible. Every time he inhaled he had to fight the urge to cough.

So, when the snowmobiles roared into life, he was incredibly grateful. He moved to pull down his coat but Tim shook his head. Instead, Tim holstered his Sig and grabbed the coat from him. Tim motioned for him to kneel.

He knelt to the ground and found the air was marginally clearer. Even so, it was still difficult to breathe. Finally, Tim handed him his coat and burst from the cave.

He quickly followed Tim, alternately coughing and sucking in grateful, clean breaths for several minutes despite the bitter cold air. Even as he coughed, he turned around and noticed that their 'door' had been covered with snow, hiding their cave from sight. But now it was dislodged and smoke was pouring out as if it housed a sleeping dragon.

Tim recovered first and began to wave his coat through the smoke to dissipate it. But his lungs still burned so he remained bent at the waist alternately coughing and taking deep steady breaths. He watched as Tim pulled on his coat and looked at him.

"You ok?" Tim asked as he helped him to stand upright.

"I feel like a piece of beef jerky," he replied as the world spun slightly as he fully stood upright. "But I'm fine." Suddenly the wind picked up and the snow started to come down heavily again. He quickly pulled on his coat, frowning because it now smelled heavily of smoke. "I don't think those guys will be back again."

"Not likely," Tim said as he shivered.

He looked down. There were footprints in the snow alarmingly close to their shelter. Tim followed his gaze. He looked down along the slope and saw the tell-tale tracks from snowmobiles. Two sets continued down the valley while the third returned to the cabin.

"Maybe we can give it some time and then go back to the cabin to ride out the storm," Tim suggested.

"The thought is extremely tempting, Tim," he said as he turned and looked up along the valley. But he shook his head. "We can't risk them coming back in the middle of this storm. Obviously, the weather isn't deterring them from going out. What's to stop them from returning to the cabin?"

"I was hoping you weren't thinking that too," Tim replied. "Which means we need to get more wood."

He nodded. After donning his hat and gloves, they hurried off into the swirling snow to collect more wood. After two trips, they could barely see more than a few yards in front of them.

"I think I've had enough snow for a lifetime," he said as they worked to chop the wood into smaller pieces and then split the logs.

"Same here," Tim replied as he paused long enough to wipe his forehead.

Suddenly they heard a snowmobile. Dropping down, they listened as the droning engine grew closer. He drew his Sig and Tim followed suit but perhaps because of the snow they never saw the vehicle as it passed their position.

"That must have been Richard with Kara," he said. Tim nodded. "At least that'll leave us in peace for a while."

By the time they finished collecting enough wood and reset their door, their fire had burned down to embers.

"Perfect," Tim muttered as they entered their dark cave just as the wind picked up again. The temperature inside the cave had to have been half of what it had been before. Tim cranked the flashlight and turned it on, so he could see well enough to restart the fire.

"I left strict instructions with the maid to keep the fire going," he said as he stacked the wood against the side of the cave. "You just can't find good help these days."

Tim ignored him as he gathered up the pile of bark and small twigs left over from the night before.

"I think I've had my fill of camping for the next ten years," he said as he blew air on his hands to warm them while Tim carefully added their last pieces of dry wood to the embers.

Tim chuckled dryly as he paused and flexed his fingers. "Camping is usually much more fun than this, Tony," Tim replied as he placed the bits of bark under the fresh logs and into the coals.

"Yeah well, I don't really care to find out for myself. Me and the great outdoors don't get along," he replied. "Although, at least I don't get poison ivy every time I go into the woods.

Tim turned and frowned at him. "Look, I did most of my scouting in California. We had poison oak out there, not poison ivy. I can recognize poison oak. Poison ivy is a different story and I'm allergic to it," he said defensively.

"Easy McTouchy," he said with a smile. "I doubt you'll get it now."

"Probably not," Tim conceded as he returned to tending the fire. He watched his partner work but it didn't seem like the bark and twigs were going to catch. For a moment, he worried that they wouldn't get it lit again. But then Tim blew onto the coals and suddenly a flame appeared.

Encouraged, Tim carefully added smaller twigs until they had a small fire going. After nearly thirty minutes, their fire was once again crackling merrily, and they were able to dry off.

Sitting back, they shared a breakfast of peanut butter and crackers.

"You heard, that right?" he asked. Tim shook his head, not following him. "Jack and Rick Dunning were dismantling a meth lab. They must have made the meth we found in Corporal Dunning's apartment." Tim nodded. "When we interviewed him, I didn't take Jack to be the Walter White type."

"Me neither," Tim agreed. "But it doesn't take much to make meth, especially low-quality stuff. Abby hadn't finished her analysis of the drugs before we left."

"Even if it is higher quality stuff, that doesn't mean Jack didn't have help with the manufacturing," he said. Tim nodded in concession as he ate. "So, when we get out of here, I vote we don't take the pass over the mountain to town," he said.

"Vote?" Tim asked as he wiggled his toes. "I thought that as senior field agent, you would make the decision."

"You want to take the pass and walk right into the Hatfield's hands, McCoy, be my guest," he replied. He winced as the pins and needles seemed to crawl up his foot into his leg.

"No," Tim replied. "But now I'm wondering if Kara was lying to us."

"There's that too," he said. "Or she could have lied to her Uncle. He just said she told us the wrong way, we don't know what she told him." Tim looked thoughtful as he chewed. "I don't think she was lying to us though."

"I don't think so either," Tim replied.

"Doesn't mean I want to chance it," he said. Tim looked at him questioningly. "Even if she gave us good directions, how much you want to bet that one or more of the Dunnings will be watching that trail back to town?"

"I won't take that bet," Tim replied.

"I had a feeling," he said.

Tim scratched the stubble on his cheek. "I guess that means we follow the stream valley."

"Back to Plan A," he agreed. When Tim looked confused, he said, "When we first woke up, you said we should follow the valley, we won't walk in circles and we might cross a road."

"Oh, right," Tim said. "Are you up for a fifteen-mile hike?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked defensively.

"You should have heard yourself out there, DiWheezy."

"DiWheezy?" he asked incredulously. "We'll give you the plague and see what condition your lungs are in afterwards especially when we're breathing in smoke," he said surprised at the ribbing he was getting from Tim. "Besides," he said. "I'm not so sure that you could make the fifteen-mile hike."

"I've been running for months," Tim retorted. He looked at Tim skeptically. "After we were on that protection detail for Adriana Gorgova, I thought I'd challenge myself to train for a marathon," Tim said bashfully.

He looked at Tim sympathetically. Ziva had told him that Tim had asked if she thought that Adriana had been attracted to him or if she thought it had been an act. And this was on the heels of the incident with the assassin who had seduced him to get information only a year before. It was no wonder his partner was gun-shy with women.

Instead of teasing his partner, he said, "I didn't take you for a runner."

"I wasn't," Tim replied. "I started with Jethro." He looked at Tim, puzzled. McGee had been running with their boss? Gibbs ran? "The dog I adopted, Tony. Our morning walks somehow turned into morning runs. I still miss those."

He nodded in understanding.

Jethro had been older when Tim had adopted him and had gotten sick with cancer a few years ago. Tim had done his best to get him treatment, but it hadn't worked. Abby had been devastated when the dog had died. She had been in mourning for a full week and had even hosted a wake for the dog. As weird as that had been, it had been a pretty epic party even by Abby's standards. She had hired an authentic New Orleans jazz quintet and had it catered by a creole restaurant.

"I still can't believe Abby conned you into taking at dog that attacked you," he said. "Did she use her feminine guile? Bribe you with a nap in the coffin?"

"What?" asked Tim looking at him, shock written across his features.

"Oh, come on, McGee!" he said happy for the distraction. "I know about you and the mistress of the lab."

"I don't know what you think you think you know, Tony. But you don't know anything," Tim retorted.

He paused to work out what Tim said. "I know that you and Abby are unusually close and don't give me that line 'we're just friends.' There's something between you two."

Tim rolled his eyes. "At one time there was," he replied softly. "But not for a long time Tony. We _are_ just friends, no matter what your overactive imagination might think. I trust Abby. And I trusted her when she said Jethro was a good dog. That's why I gave him a second chance and I didn't regret it."

"Deny it all you want, McGee," he said. "You two are in love with one another except that you won't admit it to anyone, especially yourselves."

"No," Tim said. "We're not _in_ love, Tony. Haven't been for a long time. We still care for each other." He looked at Tim skeptically. "There's a difference."

"I believe you," he replied. "I also believe you aren't happy about it." He paused as he gauged Tim's reaction. Tim shrugged. "Abby's the one with the hang up."

"Does that surprise you?" Tim asked. "She's just as bad with commitment as you are."

"I'd take offense to that except that I can't," he replied. "I'm sorry, man, that sucks."

Tim shrugged again, returning his gaze to the fire.

"Want me to give her a kick in her black pants?" Tony asked.

Tim chuckled and shook his head. "Thanks, but you know it wouldn't do any good. If anything develops between us again, she needs to come to that conclusion on her own. She's stubborn like that. Until that happens I'm just fine with how things are now. I value her friendship more than a relationship."

"Yeah," he said. He knew how that went. "Don't worry, Tim," he said. "You'll find someone and make some insanely smart little McGeelets. Let's just hope they get their looks from their mother."

Tim frowned and didn't reply. He had a feeling his partner was less optimistic about his chances than he was annoyed by jab about his looks. Tim had had some decidedly bad luck when it came to women.

"Have faith Tim," he said as smacked Tim's arm with friendly encouragement. "You're a catch. You'll find her, probably when you least expect it."

Tim smiled wanly at him. "I hope so," he replied. "What about you?"

He shrugged. "I dunno, Tim. I'm not really the settling down type," he replied. "I'm terrible with kids and I'm not exactly good at the permanent relationship thing."

Tim opened his mouth but then shut it again and he had a feeling that Tim was going to bring up Jeanne. Thankfully his partner didn't. Even after all this time, how things had ended with Jeanne still hurt. If the circumstances had been different, he could have pictured himself marrying Jeanne and perhaps having a family. But given that he had lied to her, he had destroyed those dreams even before they had a chance.

"What about Ziva?" Tim asked suddenly drawing him from his thoughts.

"What about her?" he asked defensively.

"You care a lot about her," Tim said clearly probing.

"And so do you," he retorted trying to deflect Tim.

Tim nodded. "I do."

"She's my partner Tim," he said as he grabbed his quilt. "Rule twelve." Tim frowned. "Besides I'm not about to start dating a crazy assassin who's ready to kill me at the drop of a hat." Tim didn't look convinced. "I'm going to sleep now."

"Trying to avoid the conversation?" Tim asked astutely.

"No, mostly I'm trying to get some sleep. But I am trying to avoid getting myself killed." Tim looked confused. "So, Tony, how did you two pass the time in your cave?" he said in a passable Gibbs voice. "Oh, it was simple Boss. Avoided some mountain men. Chopped some wood." Tim started to smile. "Talked about Ziva,"

"I wouldn't worry," Tim said. "Gibbs would save you."

"We need saving now, McGee. But rescuers aren't coming out in this storm," he said as he looked at their makeshift door as a few flakes of snow made their way in through the ventilation holes. "Not even Gibbs."


	12. Snowbound

_A/N: For all of those in a deep freeze, I feel your pain! I really dislike single digit temperatures but it does make it really easy to imagine how cold everyone is in this story right now!_

* * *

He calmly sat and sipped his coffee as Ziva paced restlessly around the lounge area. Fires crackled merrily in the fireplaces in the lounge and dining area and despite the blizzard that ranged outside, several locals sat at the bar, sipping on their own cups of coffee as they chatted quietly amongst themselves.

It was nearly eleven in the morning and the storm showed no signs of abating any time soon. And all the weather reports indicated that the storm had the potential to last for several days yet. The town had virtually shut down, except for the Farmhouse. In fact, the storm seemed to be good for business.

Elsie had served breakfast to a non-stop stream of locals, which was merging into a non-stop stream of people looking for lunch. At the moment, an older couple and a family with two pre-teen boys were eating a hearty beef stew with homemade bread that Elsie's son had cooked up. The steady stream of business had shuffled them from the dining area to the lounge area in front of the fireplace, where they sat alone.

"How can you just sit there, Gibbs?" Ziva asked turning on him.

He looked at her. "I'm not sure what else I'm supposed to do," he replied evenly. He understood her frustration. He felt it too. He just wasn't allowing himself to show it.

"You could at least show some concern," she said hotly as she sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs next to him. "Tony and McGee are out there," she said as she jabbed a finger towards the window. "As should we." The snow was still blowing furiously past the window.

"I haven't forgotten that Tony and McGee are out there," he replied calmly even though he agreed with her.

He wanted nothing more than to be out there looking for his boys. He had spent the night thinking about them and trying to figure out why they had gone missing. He stared at the snow, paced and stared at the fire until he fell asleep on one of the sofas. He woke up covered with a quilt after Elsie had found him when she came to the Farmhouse to prepare for breakfast.

He wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep but if he were to guess, he had gotten a few hours' sleep. He had considered returning to his room to sleep some more but Ziva was an early riser, so he had decided to remain downstairs with her.

"I am sorry," she said contritely. "I know that you have not forgotten that."

"But there is nothing we can do for now," he finished.

She nodded then suddenly growled in frustration and smacked the coffee table as she stood. "I hate feeling so useless!"

"I don't like it either," he said as he noted several of the locals look their way. "But we don't have much choice in the matter, Ziva. We won't do Tim and Tony any good if we get ourselves lost in a blizzard."

She deflated.

"I am worried about them," she said softly. "The temperature dropped below zero last night and they are not dressed for such weather. Even now, it is barely twenty degrees. And they could be seriously injured. The photos of their car were not encouraging."

"But they weren't in the car, which means they were alive after the crash," he replied. "And they'll do everything they can to stay that way."

"But neither of them have had survival training," she objected. "And they were not equipped to deal with a blizzard. Their bags were still in the car. Why would they not take them with them?"

He shook his head. He didn't know. That part didn't make sense. The trunk hadn't been damaged. They could have easily collected their bags and the other basic survival gear that they kept stowed in their sedans.

"They were in a hurry," he said softly.

"They were attacked," she replied in kind. "Possibly run off the road. But why? Was it the drugs? Or Corporal Dunning's murder? Or neither?"

"Or both," he said as he dug out his key. "What are the chances that drugs potentially connected to this town show up in Dunning's apartment just as he's been murdered?"

"Rule thirty-nine," she said. "No such thing as coincidences. Just because we are stuck here, it does not mean we cannot continue our investigation."

He nodded and made his way upstairs. He put the key into the lock but when he turned it, he found his room was unlocked.

Instantly on guard, he opened his door and peered inside. The bed had been made, which told him Elsie had likely been inside. He checked over things and didn't see anything out of place. His weapon was still in the bedside table secured with the trigger lock, the files were still under his go bag where he had left them, and his bag hadn't been disturbed. If Elsie had done anything else than just make the bed, she had meticulously replaced everything.

Frowning, he collected the DEA file and the photos. Since Elsie had similar feelings as he did about technology, the Farmhouse didn't have a printer and Elsie only reluctantly had Wi-Fi because her son had insisted on it. So, Ziva had been forced back into the storm to go to the Sheriff's office to use their printer to print the file.

That meant that both files were in unmarked folders from the Sheriff's office. There was no way to know their contents without looking inside and as far as he could tell, the folders had been undisturbed, and the contents were intact. But it was still disconcerting that Elsie had been in his room.

Stepping outside, he noted that Ziva had placed a "Do Not Disturb" placard on her door. He found his and added it to his own door before locking the door and returning to the common room.

He returned to Ziva's side and handed her the files. She opened the DEA case file and began to read while he returned to his coffee. Elsie had topped it off while he was gone.

"We know that two of Corporal Dunning's squad mates were taking methamphetamines," she said. "One has died, and the other is hospitalized. The drugs from Dunning's apartment match the drugs his squad mates were taking, and they match the drugs from the DEA investigation. We also know that Corporal Dunning argued with his uncle outside of a bar near Norfolk. Are the two connected?"

"I don't know," he replied. "My gut says they are."

"If the meth ring is connected to this town, the dealer could have felt threatened by an investigation," she said. "If he suspected the drugs were from here, perhaps Corporal Dunning reached out to his Uncle to try find information on the dealer. To stop him from selling to his squad mates. William Dunning may have inadvertently ghosted the dealer."

"Spooked," he said without thinking.

"I thought spooks were spies," she said in confusion.

"They are," he said to her further confusion, but he was too lost in his thoughts to explain further.

His gut told him the drugs were connected to Hastings, he just didn't know how.

Suddenly the wind had picked up and the whole house seemed to shift. The conversation died out as everyone turned to look out the nearest window. He watched as the snow streaked past the window. As the wind died down, the conversation picked up again.

Ziva tore her gaze from the window. "I do not like feeling helpless," she said again. "I feel like I should be doing something and not just reading this case file for the hundredth time! It has told me nothing more this time either!"

"We can do something," he said. She looked at him inquisitively. "It feels like half the town has come in today."

"We can observe and gather intel," she said with an understanding nod. He nodded as Elsie stopped by to refill his cup. Whether she thought he needed it because he had been up most of the night or if she recognized that he was a coffee lover, Elsie had made sure to keep his cup full. She seemed to possess a sixth sense and knew exactly when he needed a refill.

When she had gone, Ziva said, "I have been in situations that required everything I have to survive. But I have never been in a situation like this. I do not know how to deal with this weather. Do they?"

Gibbs looked at her. "Right now, Ziva, I have to trust that Tony and McGee are doing whatever they have to do to survive." She frowned slightly. "I wouldn't expect anything less from them. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if they stroll through that door at any moment."

Suddenly, they heard the whine of an engine as a snowmobile approached the inn. Ziva looked at the door hopefully. A moment later, the door flew open and a man and a young woman entered the inn. Ziva looked at him and deflated. He understood how she felt. He had hoped that it had been Tony and Tim as well.

"Rick! Kara! What on earth are you two doing out in this storm?" Elsie asked astounded.

"Richard Dunning," Ziva said softly as they eyed up the newcomers as they forced the door shut. Now that she knew it wasn't Tim or Tony, she returned to her investigator mode. "Corporal Dunning's uncle. He is the youngest brother." Gibbs nodded as he looked at them. "Kara is Corporal Dunning's sister."

Both newcomers were bundled up against the cold which made it hard to tell much about them. Richard Dunning was average height, had a long beard and wore a bib style snow suit under his heavy winter coat. Kara was a few inches shorter, had long sandy brown hair and wore a pair of camouflage gloves that looked too big for her smaller hands.

"We were at the cabin when this mess started," Rick said as he shook the snow from his coat and hung it on a peg on the wall. He hung up the girl's coat then took a seat at the bar. "It doesn't seem to be letting up, so we decided to come back at first light," Rick replied, as the girl sat down. "You got something hot to eat?"

"Of course. I know that's why you stopped in instead of going straight home," Elsie replied. Rick smiled. "Beef stew all right?"

"That'll do the trick," Rick replied, good-naturedly.

Elsie hurried into the kitchen and returned a moment later with two steaming bowls of stew and a large slice of bread for each of them. She then poured a cup of coffee for Rick and a cup of tea for the young woman.

"It's bad out there," Rick muttered. "Worst storm I've ever seen. We could barely see where we were going, and we knew the trail."

"You didn't happen to see a couple of missing Federal Agents out in that storm, did you?" Elsie asked.

"Federal Agents?" Rick asked. "What Federal Agents?"

"I guess you haven't talked to your brother yet then," Elsie said. She glanced towards Gibbs and Ziva. Elsie took Kara's hand in hers. "Sorry to be the one to break the bad news, Kara, but your brother is dead."

"Brian is dead?" Kara asked, clearly startled. "How?"

"Ask them," Elsie said pointing towards Gibbs and Ziva. "They're Feds too. They're investigating his death."

The woman turned to look at them. She was pale, but he wasn't sure if it was because of the cold or because she had just received a shock.

Gibbs stood and walked over to the bar. "NCIS Special Agent Gibbs," he said as he showed them his badge. He paused for a moment after he thought he saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes. "This is Agent David."

"Brian is dead?" Kara asked softly.

"I am afraid so," Ziva replied gently.

"Why is it we're only hearing about this now?" Rick asked. "I thought the Marines informed next of kin right away."

"The CACO officer," he said. "It is usually the base chaplain. They notify family within twenty-four hours. Have you spoken with your brother in the last three days?"

"Come to think of it, no," Rick said. "Been out at the cabin for the last few days." Kara nodded numbly. "I thought Brian was in Afghanistan," Rick said as he turned to examine Gibbs and Ziva. He looked at them warily. "Why would a couple of agents be investigating his death here?"

"He was in Afghanistan," Ziva replied.

"His tour was up, and his unit had returned home," he said. "He was murdered near the base three days ago."

Kara buried her head into Rick's shoulder and started to cry. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. "Murdered? How'd he die?" Rick asked.

"He was shot," he replied. He noticed that Rick didn't seem surprised. "You aren't surprised?"

"Brian always seemed to get into trouble as a kid," replied Rick. "Not the kind of trouble with the law, the personal kind. He'd get into fights and whatnot."

"That's why he joined the Marines," Elsie said helpfully. He hadn't spoken to her about the Dunning family yet. He hadn't been ready last night, and he hadn't talked to her this morning because of the crowds. He suddenly wished that he had. "He hoped they could help set him straight."

"They did," he replied. "He was a model marine and a hero. He saved two marines in a firefight. He ran through a hail of bullets to pull his buddies to cover and took a bullet in the leg doing it."

"So, if he had turned over a new leaf, who shot him and why?" Rick asked.

"We don't know yet," he replied.

"Then what are you doing here?" Rick asked. "Shouldn't you be out looking for his killer? You said he was killed near the base. Wouldn't the killer be there?"

"We'll find who killed him," he said firmly. "But two of my agents are missing. They came here to speak with Corporal Dunning's father, your brother. They were looking for background information on Corporal Dunning. They checked in with Sheriff Berman then disappeared. You haven't talked to your brother since yesterday, have you?"

Rick shook his head. "No. Like I said, I've been at the cabin these last three days. Well mostly. I spent most of my time out checking our trap lines. And I picked up some more supplies."

"You were at the cabin by yourself?" he asked looking at the girl.

She shook her head. "Uncle Rick was with me most of the time."

"When I heard what happened, I went out to stay with her. She broke up with her boyfriend and needed a little time away from this town."

"Rick," Elsie hissed. "You don't need to air your niece's dirty laundry to everyone."

He looked at Elsie sharply. "It's not her fault that he's a two-timing son of a…"

"Uncle Rick," Kara said softly. He stopped and hugged her again.

The exchange was short, but he saw a tell-tale flash of a temper from Rick.

"I'm sorry, Kara. I know you liked him, but you deserve better than him," Rick said deflating. "Jack would have said something about his son being murdered if he had known. I would guess that he hadn't been visited by your agents or that CACO officer."

"You're sure of that?" Ziva asked.

"I stopped by Jack's place yesterday morning to pick up some supplies. Jack wasn't there but Alice didn't say anything either," Rick said.

"When was that?" he asked.

"I dunno," Rick replied looking at Kara. "Got there about eight and left at about ten o'clock I suppose. I went out to the cabin right after that and then I went out to check the last of the trap lines," Rick said. Kara nodded. Her movements were leaden, and it didn't seem like she agreed with him. But she was upset and that made it hard to read her body language.

He frowned. If Rick's timeline was correct, he was at Jack's home when Tim and Tony should have arrived.

He had looked over the Sheriff's notes and the photos he had taken but there was no way to tell how long the car had been there. And from the angle of impact, he couldn't tell which direction the car had been traveling before it careened off the road. If Richard Dunning was telling the truth – and he wasn't convinced that he was yet – then Tim and Tony never made it to Jack Dunning's house.

Only the Sheriff had known that they were in town and why. Was he in on Corporal Dunning's murder? Had he prevented DiNozzo and McGee from reaching Jack Dunning's house? Was the Sheriff trying to prevent Tim and Tony from finding evidence that might lead them to the drug ring?

If so, that would explain how he found their car. He knew where it was because he had run them off the road. That could also mean that the scene could have been tampered with. Of course, he had considered that already, but this lent some credence to that scenario.

Abby had examined the photos but she hadn't found anything yet that could explain what had happened or where they had gone. And since they hadn't been able to visit the crime scene, he could only rely on the photos and the Sheriff's reports. Ducky had also examined the photos, but he hadn't been able to guess how badly Tim and Tony might be hurt.

"What happened to your Agents, Agent Gibbs?" Rick asked drawing him back to the conversation.

"Not sure," he replied. "Sheriff Berman found their car over an embankment on the road that leads to your brother's house. There's no sign of them."

"Accident?" Rick asked. He didn't answer. "That road gets pretty ugly in the winter, especially if you don't know the turns. Why didn't they just follow the road back to town?"

"We think that it might have something to do with Corporal Dunning's death," Ziva said.

Rick and Kara looked puzzled so he explained. "We believe Corporal Dunning was murdered because of drugs."

"Brian didn't do drugs!" Kara said hotly. Rick put a hand on her arm. She calmed down. "He didn't," she said feebly.

"Sorry. It's a touchy subject," Rick said. "Brian was accused of doing drugs in high school once. They suspended him from the basketball team and everything until the test came back negative."

"He was clean," he confirmed. Ducky and Abby's blood tests had told them that much.

"We think that he was murdered because of something he knew," Ziva said. "Two members of his unit overdosed the day his body was discovered. One of them died. You did not see any sign of our partners on your way back to town?"

"I didn't see much of anything," Rick replied. "The snow is blowing so hard, it was hard to see where I was going. Only got back because I've taken that trail hundreds of times. And I don't think I'd have seen them anyway. Didn't you say that their car was found on the road to Jack's place?" He nodded. "The cabin is in the opposite direction from Jack's place. That's a long way to wander from a car especially in a storm like this one. They'd have to move pretty quick to get that far away from their vehicle."

"But it is not impossible?" Ziva asked.

"Well I suppose not," Rick replied. "But it doesn't make much sense, now does it? Why would they go that way instead of back toward the town?"

"Unless they were being chased," Elsie said. They turned to look at her. "It's the only thing that makes sense, doesn't it? Despite the opinions of some around here, Federal Agents aren't dumb." He noticed that several other patrons suddenly looked down at their coffee and avoided eye contact with him and Ziva. He allowed himself a small smile. "They'd have walked back the way they came or to Jack's place unless someone chased them in a different direction."

"So that means they're out in the woods in this mess?" Rick asked. "I'm sorry to say Agent Gibbs that if your people are out in this, they don't have much of a chance without shelter. It's a nasty storm. That's why me and Kara came back. We're going to ride it out at my place in town. Safer than staying at the cabin as much as Kara likes it out there."

"Why is that?" Ziva asked.

"Didn't want to risk a tree coming down on our heads," Rick replied. "It's been known to happen in bad storms. The trees can't hold the weight of the snow and they snap like matchsticks. A big ole oak tree took out McCallister's hunting cabin during a snowstorm two years back, didn't it?"

Elsie nodded, and a couple of others added their assents.

"Better safe than sorry," he added as he crossed his arms. "But I suppose risking getting crushed by a tree would be better than freezing to death."

"Are there other cabins out there?" Ziva asked hopefully.

"Lots," Elsie said. "Most people have a place out in the woods for hunting or for summer camping. There's a good chance they came across one and hunkered down."

He looked at Ziva who seemed moderately reassured.

"Not many 'round Jack's place though," Rick said. "Terrain gets real rough up there. There's lots of ravines and cliffs. It would be easy to fall into one of them in a storm like this. The snow can hide drop-offs. You think you're on solid ground, next thing you know your falling twenty or thirty feet straight down with the snow gives out on you. When this storm lets up, Agent Gibbs, I'll help you find your agents. Between me, Jack and William, we know those woods better than anyone else."

Elsie nodded in agreement. "That's the truth Agent Gibbs. Those three have been over every inch of these woods since they were boys. Their daddy used to yell at them loud enough for half the town to hear. He was afraid they get lost or get themselves hurt."

"But we never did," Rick said with a smile. "And now we know the woods better than the bears."

"Thanks," he replied as he nodded and allowed them to return to their meal. He led Ziva back to their table.

"This is not good Gibbs," Ziva said. "Now in addition to the storm, Tony and McGee must worry about bears."

He smiled slightly in spite of himself. "Only if they stumble into its den, Ziva. Bears hibernate in the winter." She nodded. "If he's telling the truth, the Sheriff could have run DiNozzo and McGee off the road before they reached Jack Dunning's house," he said softly. "He said he had been out check on residents in the outlying areas."

"It would give him the opportunity," Ziva said in agreement. "You think that the Sheriff is in on the drug ring?" Ziva asked. "That he has been lying to us?"

"I don't know," he replied. "And I don't know that he isn't lying. But I know that I don't trust anyone right now." She nodded in agreement. "Call the base. Find the CACO officer and confirm whether Corporal Dunning's family was notified." As Ziva nodded, he glanced back at Rick and Kara. Kara had pushed away her bowl and Rick motioned for Elsie to pack it up to take it with them. "If Jack Dunning knew his son was dead, why didn't he tell his family for the last three days?"

"Some news is better in person," Ziva said.

"Agreed," he replied. "But three days is a long time to wait to tell your daughter that her brother was murdered."

"I will find out if the officer visited the Dunning family," Ziva said. "But what if Jack had a reason to not tell his daughter? And what if Richard is telling the truth that Tony and McGee never made it to the Dunning house?"

Suddenly the door opened, and Sheriff Berman entered. He kicked the snow from his shoes and walked over to Richard Dunning. The two men exchanged some words, then shook hands which turned into a half-hug. Berman then turned to Kara and gave her a hug. Berman spoke with Richard and Kara until Elsie appeared with a bag of takeout. When Rick tried to pay, Elsie shook her head and pressed the food into his hands. Berman then gave Elsie a hug as Richard and Kara left the inn.

"They all seem very friendly," Ziva observed.

"Small town," he said softly. "People look out for one another." Ziva looked at Elsie and Sheriff Berman as he took a seat at the counter.

"Keep your eyes and ears open. Everyone is a suspect," he said. Ziva nodded in agreement. "At least until we get more information. As far as I know, Berman could be responsible for what happened to Tony and McGee."


	13. Snowy Hike

_A/N: Apologies for the delay. I'm back to work and I got bit by the cold bug. I was down for the count yesterday. Thanks to modern medicine, I'm moderately functional again! We rejoin our boys in the cave and given the current weather (it's a whopping 3°F where I am), I empathize with them. I'll be holing up in my house for the next three days too._

* * *

He yawned as he stretched his stiff muscles. Three and a half days of living in a cave barely large enough for them to lay down and not large enough for them to stand upright was taking a toll on his body. Even their forays into the surrounding woods to collect firewood wasn't enough exercise to offset living in the cramped cave.

He glanced at Tony. His partner was curled up under his coat and a blanket. It was the only way to offset the perpetual chill that pervaded their temporary shelter. The three days growth made him look older than he really was.

Unconsciously, he rubbed his chin. The rough stubble felt strange to his fingers. His father had always stressed a clean-cut appearance in public. For that reason, he had never worn facial hair and had considered it only once. But like his father, Gibbs had put an end to that rather quickly.

He wondered what he looked like with a little scruff, but without a mirror he wouldn't be able to find out. He briefly considered taking his photo with his phone but if Tony caught him, he'd never live it down. The days were long enough already. He didn't need Tony ragging on him for something as trivial as facial hair.

He looked at Tony again. It had taken him a long time to accept his partner's teasing. At first, when he was still stationed at Norfolk, he had thought that Tony had been just another bully like the ones he had put up with throughout school. It had taken him a long time to see past Tony's behavior and realize what Tony's actions really meant.

For Tony, teasing and pranks were his way of showing he cared. Underneath it all, Tony really was interested in teaching him the ropes and part of that was making sure he was tough enough to handle the job. He had developed a thick skin in school but even that wasn't thick enough to deal with the horrendous crimes that they dealt with in their job.

But as much as Tony teased him, he was also the first in line to defend him. Tony had never doubted him when he shot John Benedict and Tony had worked tirelessly to prove that he had followed procedure.

He smiled slightly at the memory. Tony had tried to cheer him up but going clubbing and getting drunk had never been his idea of a good time. They had stayed in and despite his best attempts to get Tony to leave, his partner stayed with him. Eventually, he realized that he really didn't want to be alone. Being alone meant thinking about, regretting, and wishing something different had happened.

In the following days, once he caught up on his sleep, the fact that Tony took the time and effort to try to cheer him up meant a lot to him. And his partner's support had helped him to get through a very difficult time in his life.

Maybe this was what it was like to have an older brother. They would tease and pick at each other but when the chips were down, they had each other's backs. He was so used to _being_ the older brother that he didn't recognize that Tony treated him like he treated Sarah at times.

If that was the case, he didn't mind it – mostly. He could do without being super-glued to his keyboard ever again though.

He glanced at Tony again. His partner was still sleeping soundly.

They had slept far more than they normally would have had they been home. There wasn't much to do otherwise. They had cobbled together a rough set of checkers that had helped pass the time but even that got old after three days.

When they were both awake, they talked a little, but they had quickly run out of interesting topics. Although, when Tony kept asking about his camping trips with his father, he began to think that Tony was fishing for information. Even though he knew Tony would be sympathetic considering his own issues with Senior, he wasn't sure he really wanted to discuss the matter with his partner.

He sighed. This was worse than the nine hours he had spent stuck in the elevator with Ziva. At least then he knew that he would get out in a reasonable amount of time. Here, he didn't know when the storm would let up.

He stirred their fire and attempted to do some of the basic yoga stretches Abby had shown him ages ago. That helped to ease his tight muscles a little, but it also forced him to look at their meager pile of fuel. They were nearly out of wood again.

When Tony woke, they would have to get more, although it was getting harder and harder to find wood that they could use. Most of the downed trees they were finding were too big to chop with a small axe. They had resorted to chopping off limbs from those trees but that were using all of those too.

He was beginning to think that they ought to take their chances in the storm.

That thought was punctuated by a loud gurgle from his stomach.

They had unfortunately run out of food last night and that was after sparingly eating what little they had be given.

His stomach grumbled again.

"Stop it, Probie," Tony muttered into his sleeve. "You're making me hungry."

"I can't help it Tony," he replied as Tony cracked an eyelid and looked up at him.

"Yeah, I know," Tony replied as he sat up. Tony rubbed his eyes and looked at him. "You look like a hobo."

He rubbed the stubble on his face again. "You should see yourself," he replied. Tony's hair was sticking up at odd angles, his coat was covered with dirt and his clothes were rumpled from living in them for three days. There were more than a few gray hairs in Tony's scruff, but he wasn't about to tell his partner that.

"What time is it?" Tony asked as he rubbed his hands through his hair, marginally taming it.

He glanced at his watch. "Just after six."

"In the morning or evening?" Tony asked as he rubbed his eyes again. "The days are starting to blend together."

"I know what you mean," he replied with a crooked smile. "I'm pretty sure it's morning."

Tony glanced at their wood pile.

"Yeah, we'll need to get more sooner or later," he said as he added another piece of wood to the fire before he sat down next to Tony and wrapped the quilt around his legs.

"You'll have to tell your dad that those times camping together came in handy," Tony said as he pulled on his coat and wrapped the blanket around his body. He shrugged noncommittally. "You don't think your dad will be impressed we managed to survive a blizzard in a cave based off research for a novel, childhood camping with the scouts and my time at summer camp?"

He looked at Tony. His partner was fishing for information again. He hesitated for a moment but then he decided he was bored enough to entertain the conversation. For a little while at least.

"I'd never get to tell him," he said. Tony looked confused. "Conversations with my father are usually one-sided."

"One-sided?" Tony asked.

"I talk," he said. "And my father hears what he wants, which isn't usually what I say."

"I thought you were close with your father," Tony said in confusion.

"When I was a kid," he said. "But that ended when he realized I had no plans to join the navy like him. I still don't think he's ever forgiven me for that." Tony stared at him. "We don't talk much and when we do, we usually argue."

He frowned as he looked at the fire. His relationship with his father had changed starting after Sarah was born. His father had started to shoot up through the ranks, which meant that they moved more frequently so his father could take different assignments that would further his career. And that meant his father was often deployed, leaving him, his mother and sister behind on the home front.

He understood why. He had learned about duty and service from a very young age. But that didn't make it easy to handle when he needed his father and he was halfway around the world for birthdays and holidays and school science fairs.

And that was exactly why he didn't want to go into the Navy. He didn't want to put his family through that kind of life. But that was exactly why he chose NCIS over the other agencies that recruited him for his computer abilities. He wanted to serve the Navy and keep the family tradition alive, in his own way.

"You're not the only one who has a difficult relationship with their father, Tony," he said finally.

"Yeah, no one's perfect," Tony conceded. "But I wouldn't have guessed you two had troubles." He shrugged. He didn't talk much about his family. He had known Tony for three years before his partner found out he had a sister and that was only because she had been accused of murder. "When you talk, you argue?"

"Who I am and who my father thinks I am are two _very_ different people," he said. "It doesn't help that he has some strong opinions about NCIS agents in general."

"Who does he think you are?" Tony asked.

"Some kind of academic paper-pusher," he replied with a shrug. "He thinks I spent too much time in college learning the liberal, hippie agenda."

Tony snorted. "Pretty sure you got that from your Grandmother," Tony said. He nodded in agreement. "What _are_ those lemongrass things anyway?"

"I stopped asking," he replied. "I usually give Penny's care packages to Abby and pass along her review to Penny."

"Good plan," Tony replied. "I realize that the brass has some strong opinions on us, but I always assumed that was because they were pissed we didn't answer to them." He snorted. Tony probably wasn't too far off. "So, you're telling me that your father has no idea what you do as an NCIS agent?"

He shook his head. "He never lets me explain that being on the MCRT means I'm not just pushing paper. I mean, we do our fair share of paperwork." Tony nodded in agreement. "But he doesn't seem to understand what we do with our investigations. You know, solving crimes, anti-terror ops and all that."

"He doesn't know about the things you've done?" Tony asked. "All the criminals you helped catch? The people you've saved? The danger you put yourself in?"

"Like I said, he hears what he wants to hear. Sees what he wants to see," he replied.

"What about the bomb blast last year?" Tony asked. "You were in the hospital for what? Two days?"

"It wasn't that long," he countered. "It was just over twenty-four hours."

"After you had surgery to repair the damage caused by a six-inch shard of glass," Tony retorted. He shrugged. "You got lucky, McGee. It could have been much worse."

"I know," he replied as rubbed his side where he still had a small scar. The glass had slid in between his intestines without nicking them. A few internal stitches in the abdominal wall and some external stitches and he was back on light duty within forty-eight hours with little more than a big band-aid to show for his injury.

"What did he think about that?" Tony asked.

"My father knew I was injured in the blast at NCIS," he replied. "But he knew a lot of people were hurt. When we talked after the blast, he chided me for not evacuating fast enough. I never got the chance to tell him, that I had stayed behind to get our files on Dearing in case the servers were damaged."

"Somalia?" Tony asked.

He snorted. "I _really_ doubt he knows about that," he replied. "And even if he did, I doubt he'd believe what happened or he'd downplay my role."

"Not if I could help it," Tony said firmly. He smiled appreciatively at Tony. "That's got to be frustrating."

He shrugged. "At first," he replied. "But I've accepted it for what it is."

"Still sucks," Tony said.

He ran his hands through his hair. "Yeah well, my dad is stubborn, Tony. Not sure anything could make him change now. He's too set in his ways."

"If I've learned anything since my father turned back up in my life, it's that anything is possible Tim," Tony said. "You just have to be open giving him a chance."

"I know," he replied. "And I am. I just don't know that I'll see it any time soon. Although, I might have more of an opportunity." Tony looked at him questioningly. "There's rumors that he's being considered for the position of Navy Service Chief on the Joint Chiefs of Staff."

"Wow," Tony said, impressed.

"One more goal to achieve," he muttered. Tony looked at him in surprise. "Don't get me wrong, it's an honor."

"But he sacrificed a lot to get to that position," Tony said. He nodded. "Well, don't give up on him yet, Tim. You never know what might make him change his outlook on life."

He shrugged and didn't argue with Tony. He wasn't as optimistic as his partner that his father could ever change.

Tony stretched his arms and asked, "Is the sun up yet? I could really use some exercise."

"I know what you mean," he said appreciating that Tony had changed the subject. He stood up. "I would love to go for a run right now." He walked over to the entrance and glanced out of one of the air vents. "Hey. The snow stopped."

"Really?" Tony asked as he stood. Tony joined him at the cave entrance and looked outside. The sun was rising, and they could see a clear blue sky through the snow dappled trees. "Finally. We can get the hell out of here. Don't get me wrong, Probie. I love you man, but I love my bed even more."

"No offense taken," he replied as he bent down to pour the boiled water into their water bottles. After eating the tuna, they had taken to boiling water in them. It was time consuming to boil the water then wait for it to cool but it had given him something to do while watching the fire overnight.

"I'm ready to go home too," he added as he packed the empty tuna cans, peanut butter jar, the plastic bags from the jerky and dried fruit, and the packaging from the oatmeal and crackers.

"What are you taking that junk for?" Tony asked as he folded their blankets. "Don't tell me it's because you don't want to litter."

"No but that's a bonus. You never know what we might need this stuff for," he replied. "The tuna cans could be used to make another water rig," he said. "And the box could be used to start a fire."

"We aren't going to need to start another fire," Tony said as he folded the blankets.

"I hope so," he replied. "But I'm not going to take my chances and regret leaving it behind. Waste not, want not."

"Good point," Tony replied as he pulled on his coat and stuffed the matches into one pocket and a bottle of water into the other.

He clipped his Sig to his belt and stuffed the other water bottle into his pocket. He folded the tarp around the blankets and stuffed the rough bundle into the knapsack. When he was done, he cinched the bag shut and pulled on the knapsack.

Tony grabbed the survival kit while he used the axe to scatter the remnants of their campfire so it would go out. Then after a bracing last deep breath in the relative warmth of their cave, they stepped outside.

It was brisk, but the winds had died down. The sun was bright, but it offered little warmth. Unfortunately, they both instantly wished for a pair of sunglasses, especially after spending three days in a dim cave.

They blinked for a full minute before they looked at one another.

"Valley or pass?" he asked.

"I have a feeling the Dunning clan is going to be waiting for us at the pass," Tony replied. "And without knowing if Kara was lying to us, I don't think we ought to risk it."

"That's what I thought," he said. "Hike it is then," he said as they started down the hill towards the stream. "At least it is all downhill," he offered.

"I'm just glad I can stand up straight," Tony said as he twisted and flexed his back. "It didn't smell like jet fuel, but it really reminded me of my quarters afloat. I didn't fit in that rack either."

"There had to be something you liked about living on a carrier," he said.

"The commute wasn't bad," Tony replied with a smile. He rolled his eyes. "And no head slaps from Gibbs."


	14. Cold Start

_A/N: Just a reminder, if you're having trouble following who's speaking, each chapter is told from only one perspective. And if you need a further hint, check the previous chapter. The last character mentioned will be the perspective be used in the next chapter. For example, in the last chapter, Tony mentions Gibbs in the last line and in this chapter, we see the events through Gibbs' perspective. (It's a writing style that makes a little more sense when you look at the document in one file. Seeing one chapter per page makes it tough.) _

_For everyone who's dealing with the cold weather, keep warm! I'm hibernating this weekend looking forward to the 'warmer temperatures' tomorrow and Monday. Who knew it would be exciting to 'warm up' to just freezing temperatures? Anyway, back to the story. The search is on!_

* * *

"Gibbs," Abby pleaded.

"I told you Abs," he replied exasperated. "We haven't been able to search with this storm. We've got search teams ready."

"When are you going to look for them?"

"As soon as I hang up the phone with you," he said as he looked at Ziva. She was waiting impatiently at the door. She was heavily dressed for the weather and held her orange watch cap in her hands.

"They've been missing for four days, Gibbs," she said plaintively.

"I know, Abs," he said. "We'll find them, and I'll let you know as soon as we do."

"You better," she said.

"Gibbs," Ziva said as she looked at the door.

She was right. They had to get going. "Gotta go, Abs," he said.

"Call me as soon as you know something."

He hung up and looked at Ziva. He didn't say anything as they stepped out of the small inn and into the cold.

The storm finally let up just after dawn on the fourth day after Tony and McGee had gone missing. And like the three days previous, he had found himself awake and pacing long into the night, which meant he was asleep on the couch in the common room when the winds suddenly stopped.

It was the silence that woke him from his uneasy sleep. After three days of howling winds and a creaking house, the lack of noise was almost disconcerting until he realized that the snow had ended.

He was staring out the window when Elsie came into the Farmhouse to cook breakfast. She had made some joke about charging him a reduced rate for sleeping on the couch for the last three days instead of in his room, but his mind was already going through their search plans.

"Do you think that we will really find them alive?" Ziva asked, her fear clearly showing on her face.

Ziva had run the gamut of emotions from optimistic to concerned and finally had settled on fear. Even though she tried to mask it, they both knew she was afraid of what they might find when they were finally able to search for their partners. He shared that same fear but the little voice in his gut telling him that his boys were alive tempered it.

He examined her features. It was a rare moment when Ziva let her guard down. It was almost as rare as when he let his own feelings show.

But he understood her fear. Tim and Tony were her closest friends. She had left her country and her family behind so that she could return to the U.S. and rejoin their family. Losing them would be like losing two brothers and she knew the pain of lost family all too well.

He knew that pain all too well too. Not only with his wife and daughter but he had lost Kate in the line. He didn't want to lose his boys either. He wasn't sure he could bear it.

"They have been out in this storm for four days without food, water or shelter," she continued as they saw several men on snowmobiles waiting for them. With the snow ending only a few hours ago, the plows hadn't had time to do their work. Even on the roads, snowmobiles were the best means of transportation for now. "To survive a storm like this would not be easy even for a trained survivalist and neither Tim nor Tony has that training."

"They're alive," he said firmly. His gut told him they were. In all this time, that hadn't changed at all. "DiNozzo is too stubborn to freeze to death and McGee is too smart."

He knew that some of his words were bravado, but he wasn't going to give up on them until he was looking at their bodies. They weren't dead until he knew they were.

Ziva didn't seem to be convinced as she got onto a snowmobile behind one of the local rescue volunteers. They drove to the football field at edge of town where the searchers were meeting.

Sheriff Berman had come by the Farmhouse several times over the last three days, both to socialize and to check in on them. He had informed them that he had searchers ready to go the moment the storm let up. And he had gone over the search plan with them. Berman's search plan was meticulous and well thought out but when he and Ziva offered suggestions, he took them into account and modified the plan.

After numerous conversations with Sheriff Berman, he couldn't shake the feeling that Berman knew more than he had let on. But at the same time, his gut told him that Berman was a man of the law and wasn't corrupt. Maybe Berman was just as cautious as he was and played his cards close to his vest? He knew something of that and couldn't fault the man for it even if it frustrated him at the moment. He was still looking for the puzzle piece that would make this case make sense.

They had met many of the locals as they came in to the Farmhouse to socialize and have a meal even though the storm raged outside. After observing everyone, he still wasn't sure what to think. If any of them were running drugs, he didn't pick up on it. Then again, if they were running drugs he wasn't sure that they would come to the Farmhouse where two federal agents were staying, and they had the storm as an excuse.

They hadn't seen any of the Dunning family at the Farmhouse over the course of the storm other than Rick and Kara on the first morning. Sheriff Berman had checked in on them at Richard Dunning's home and said that the family was coping with loss as expected. Brian's mother Alice started to cry at every mention of Brian, Jack was stoic and silent, and Kara had sequestered herself in the guest bedroom and refused to see anyone.

As for the other Dunnings, William was divorced, and his family lived in Charleston. Rick and his wife had three young children who didn't seem to understand what was going on.

Elsie had said that it wasn't unusual that the Dunning family didn't stop by. Rick's wife was apparently a good cook. And with Brian's death, she suspected that they were taking time to mourn on their own.

He wasn't so sure. He couldn't forget Richard Dunning's suspicion or Kara's flash of recognition when he introduced himself.

He put those thoughts on hold as they reached the meeting point at a football field at the edge of town. Several dozen snowmobiles were lined up and groups of heavily bundled men were standing around Sheriff Berman's police vehicle. Berman was standing with his deputy, Russell Cunningham.

"All right," Berman said. "Listen up! We're looking for two Federal Agents. You have copies of their photos, but it shouldn't be too hard to figure out if they're the ones we're looking for. You've gotten your assignments and radios. I want regular reports on your progress. Call in every half hour. Russ and Shirley are going to keep track of your location and your check in times." Russ waved. "If you don't call in, we're going to have to divert searchers to check on you so don't forget to check in! Got it?"

The men agreed and once Berman was satisfied, he continued, "After four days, they must have taken shelter. Look for makeshift tents and lean-tos. Check any caves you come across, but be careful not to disturb any bears you might find. There are a few cabins in the search area, check those too. Keep your eyes open for smoke and beware of drifts that can hide drop offs. Any questions?" he asked.

The group shook their heads.

"Good. Let's go. I don't need to tell you that we're working against the light. We'll reconvene at the Farmhouse," he said.

There was a moment of confusion as the search parties broke up and started up their snowmobiles. After they had sped off, he approached Sheriff Berman and Deputy Cunningham.

"Morning Agent Gibbs, Agent David. Nice hat," Berman said as he pointed to Ziva's bright orange hat. She nodded and when she didn't reply, Berman continued, "Russ is going to head back to the station coordinating the searchers," Berman said. "He'll make sure that we're covering the search grid as effectively as possible. We've done this before. We know the drill."

"Good," he said.

"As we discussed, we're taking the quadrant around their vehicle," Berman said.

"Yes, we want to examine their car for ourselves," Ziva said.

"Sam here is chief of our local fire department. He's trained in search and rescue," Berman said. He glanced at Sam who nodded. He was wearing a bright yellow vest with the words Fire Chief emblazoned on the back. "You ready to go?"

Berman looked at him, so he stared at the man until he motioned for them to get on to the last two remaining sleds.

He climbed up behind the Sheriff as Ziva climbed up behind Sam. Berman waved to Russ who was getting back into the jeep and then they were off.

Like all the roads, the one they took hadn't been plowed yet. Only the road signs and bordering forest told him that there was a road below them. As the Sheriff had told them when they had first arrived, the road was curvy and hilly. Even in good weather, it would be a tricky road to navigate. Both Tim and Tony were excellent drivers but in poor weather, even this road would present a challenge.

Being seated behind the Sheriff, he was spared the spray of fresh powder, but it was still very cold even though he was dressed for the weather. He tried to pull his scarf up over his face, but Berman made a harsh course correction, forcing him to grab the seat before he was thrown off the machine.

"Sorry about that," Berman shouted back at him. "You ok?"

"Fine," he replied as he pointed ahead.

Berman nodded and refocused on the road. This section of the road seemed to have been carved on the side of a mountain. To the left was a steep drop off and to the right was a steep mountain. Neither of which were traversable without climbing equipment.

Almost thirty minutes later, they stopped on the side of the road at a particularly sharp curve. Several trees at the edge of the road were tied with orange survey tape.

"Russ marked the trees with the tape, so we'd be able to find the car," Berman said.

They looked over the hill. If he hadn't known there was a car down the moderately steep embankment, he'd have passed by this location. There was nothing but snow and trees for as far as the eye could see. But as he looked down the hill, he saw several more trees marked with survey tape as well, one of which looked to be almost four feet in diameter.

Ziva looked at him and he knew what she was thinking. Even if Tim and Tony had returned to the car, they couldn't have started it with the tail pipe buried in the snow. They'd die of carbon monoxide poisoning. And if they hadn't turned on the car, chances are they would have run out of oxygen or had frozen to death.

"Although as soon as Russ told me where he found their car, I knew I could find it without the survey tape," Berman said as he stood. Berman looked at him. "This curve is notorious for accidents."

"Means we also know how to deal with getting to cars down there," Sam said as he pulled a rope from his bag and walked over to a sturdy tree.

"Their car is resting against the biggest tree," Berman said as he joined Sam and helped him to secure the rope. "And that isn't the first time that ole hickory has been hit by a car."

"I can see why," he said as he looked at the road. There was no guide rail, the road was narrow and the drop off was steep. Once you went over the hill, there was no coming back.

Once the rope was secured, Berman motioned for him to take the lead.

He grabbed his bag and then slowly made his way down the slope using the rope to stabilize himself when he lost his footing on the uncertain terrain. Ziva followed him and Berman followed her.

Once they reached the toe of the slope, he let go of the rope and struggled through the deep snow drifts until he found the car. Silently, he and Ziva began to dig until they found the car.

Even with Berman and Sam helping, it took almost thirty minutes to clear enough snow away to determine that no one was inside. And it took almost another hour to clear away the rest of the snow so that they could examine the wreck.

The hood was dented around the tree which seemed to have withstood the impact with little more than a few pieces of chipped bark. The windshield was cracked but it looked to be from the impact to the tree rather than the impacts of passengers against it.

He pried open the front door and looked inside with his flashlight. It looked just like the photos.

"I'm not sure if it is a good sign or a bad one that your agents aren't inside," Berman said, looking over his shoulder.

"I'm taking it as a good sign," he said as he examined the driver's compartment. The airbag had been deployed but there wasn't any evidence that someone had impacted it. Airbags deployed with some force and it wasn't uncommon to get a bloody nose from them but this one was clean.

He knelt and looked at the underside of the dash. The panels were popped and some of the wires were sticking out. He looked at the passenger side and saw that the panel was popped, and wires were hanging out there as well. Neither of which showed any blood. Either Tony and McGee walked away without a scratch or they hadn't been inside when the car struck the tree.

He frowned. But if Tony and McGee hadn't been inside, how had the airbags been triggered? Airbags were pressure sensitive. If you didn't have someone weighing at least fifty pounds in the seat, they wouldn't deploy.

Suddenly Ziva yanked open the rear passenger seat.

"The survival supplies are still here," she said. She held them up. "Several thermal blankets, frozen water bottles and various energy bars."

"And one police radio," he said as he found the radio in the center console. He pushed the button. "Testing."

Berman's radio crackled to life and he heard his voice.

"Still works," Berman noted.

Even if it still worked, he wouldn't bet that Tim or Tony would have made use of the police radio if they suspected Berman was the reason for their accident. But he doubted that his boys had returned to the car after the deputy had found it. They would have taken the supplies.

He popped the trunk and stood upright. Pushing through the deep snow, he opened the trunk. It contained their portable crime scene kits, the roadside emergency kits and two duffle bags.

He opened the first duffle and saw an Ohio State sweatshirt on top.

"Tony's," he said as Ziva joined them.

She opened the second bag and they saw a Navy sweatshirt.

"McGee's," Ziva said.

"McGee is Navy?" Berman asked.

"Navy brat," he replied with a frown. "NCIS is a civilian agency."

"Right," Berman said. "Your agents did mention that." Berman motioned to their search partner. "Sam and I are going to start searching the area for clues unless you need us to stay with you?"

He shook his head.

Once Sam and Berman had walked far enough away, Ziva said, "I see nothing that would indicate this was not an accident. Except that there is no blood."

He looked around.

"You think there should be blood?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "And so do you." He didn't reply but that was answer enough for her. "If I were looking to dump a car, this would be the perfect place to do it. Bad curve," she said ticking the reasons off on her hand. "On the road to see Dunning's family. The tree is already damaged from previous accidents. And it is remote enough that no one would find it unless they were looking for it."

"I didn't see any driveways to indicate we passed any other houses," he said. Ziva nodded.

Suddenly, they heard a snowmobile. It grew closer and closer until it stopped at the top of the hill.

"Hello?" a voice called.

"Down here," Berman said. They looked to their left and saw Berman and Sam retracing their steps. "Who's up there?"

"It's Jack," the voice replied.

"Jack Dunning?" he asked

"The one and only," Berman said as he started to climb back up the hill.

"Who did you say Corporal Dunning listed as his next of kin?" he asked as he watched Berman and Sam climb the hill with the aid of the rope.

"The CACO officer said the paperwork he received listed a Michael Harper as the person Corporal Dunning wanted notified in case of his death," Ziva said. "He was not listed as a relation."

Nodding, he grabbed the rope and climbed back to the road where they found Jack Dunning waiting for them. From the tracks, it looked like he had come from his home rather than the town.

"Ah here they are," Berman said. "NCIS Agents Gibbs and David."

"Jack Dunning," Jack said as he nodded at them.

He nodded in return as he took a moment to catch his breath and size up the man. Like everyone else, Jack was bundled up against the cold in snow pants and a heavy hunting jacket with orange blazes on the shoulders. A camouflage hunting snood was pulled up to his chin and he wore a blaze orange watch hat like Ziva. Jack was a few inches shorter than him, but Jack was a burly guy. Even through the heavy clothes, he could see that Jack was heavier built than he was.

"Sorry to hear about your missing agents," Jack said. "Any leads so far?"

"Not yet," he replied. "But we're just getting started. My condolences for the loss of your son."

Jack nodded stiffly.

"Did you ever find out why the CACO officer didn't notify Jack and his family?" Berman asked.

"Corporal Dunning's paperwork listed a Michael Harper as his point of contact in case of his death," Ziva replied. He watched as a dark expression clouded Jack's features for a moment. But before he could dwell on it, it was gone. "Michael lives in Baltimore and was notified by the CACO officer."

"Michael wasn't listed as family," he said. "Any idea who he is?"

"An old classmate of ours," Berman said. "We were good friends in high school."

Jack nodded stiffly. "He ran in my circle of friends," Jack said. "Along with my brother Will, Elsie, my wife Alice, Mark here." Sheriff Berman nodded. "And Mark's wife Susan."

"There were others," Berman said. "But we were the core group." Jack nodded. "Michael was the smartest in our class. He got a scholarship to go to three different Universities and took the full ride at one of them. Last I heard, he was living in Baltimore. He's some kind of materials engineer I think."

Ziva nodded. "He is still there," she said.

"Any idea why Brian would list him as his point of contact instead of you and your wife?" he asked.

Jack frowned slightly.

"Dunno," Jack replied. "Maybe he thought it'd be better for us to hear the news from a friend instead of some stranger? Brian's the only one who could tell you why he put down Michael instead of his family."

"Doubt that news would have been any better coming from Michael," Berman replied. "When was the last time you talked with Michael?"

"Years ago," Jack replied. "He went off to that University and only comes back to visit his folks a few times a year. Our paths never seem to cross when he's here."

Jack was trying to keep his tone light, but he could hear the hint of tension in his voice. He had a feeling that Jack and Michael weren't exactly friends any longer.

"How is your relationship with your son?" Ziva asked causing Jack to bristle. He was intrigued by the reaction and it told him that something might have been amiss between Corporal Dunning and his father. "It is a standard question."

"Well I don't like what you are insinuating by it," Jack retorted.

"I was not insinuating anything," Ziva said defensively.

"We ask the same question of every family member," he said calmly as a slight breeze picked up. Unconsciously, their small group turned their backs to the cold air. "It helps to eliminate a group of suspects."

Jack didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue.

"Brian and I butt heads like any father and son," Jack replied. "I didn't like that he joined the marines but once he sets his mind to something, there's no changing it. He's stubborn like that."

"Gets that from his father," Berman said with a laugh as he chucked Jack on the shoulder. "Once Jack sets his mind to something, there's no stopping him."

Sam nodded in agreement and Jack didn't argue.

"Since he joined up, we haven't been together long enough to get into any disagreements," Jack finished. "We talk when he calls his mother but he's a grown man who doesn't need his father anymore."

"We all need our fathers," he said as he thought of his own father. "How we need them changes as we get older."

"Well, if that's the case, I'll never get to find out," Jack said. "Since he left home, Brian's been on his own. He comes back to visit on occasion and he's close with my daughter, Kara. But we have no reason to quarrel, Agent David."

"What about your brothers?" he asked. "Any reason to think they may have had a disagreement with Brian?"

"No," Jack replied. "At least they didn't say nothing to me. But I'd like to ask you, when could they have had a disagreement? Brian's been in Afghanistan for almost a year."

"That would make it hard to have a fight, wouldn't it?" Berman asked.

"It would," he replied as he thought back to the video showing Brian arguing with William Dunning. "But we have to ask."

"You any closer to finding out why Brian was killed?" Jack asked.

He shook his head. "Been impossible to follow any leads while we've been stuck at the Farmhouse during the storm. And I have two agents missing."

"At least you found their car," Jack said as he motioned to the car over the hill. "That gives you a starting place. You got a search grid mapped out?"

"Yeah," Berman said. "Wasn't sure you'd want to help considering what happened to Brian."

"After three days stewing over it, I could use the distraction," Jack replied. "Soon as I drop this stuff off at Rick's I'll get my brothers and help you out."

Berman nodded.

He glanced at Jack's snowmobile. It was loaded down with several bags.

Jack followed his gaze. "Alice sent me back home to pick up some things and to check on the house. Good thing we stayed at Rick's too," Jack said.

"Power out again?" Berman asked as he looked up the road towards Jack's home.

"Yeah," Jack replied. "I put a call into the power company, but it'll be a few days before they can get out here," Jack said as another breeze picked up. "If that's all, I'd like to get out of this cold and get these things back to my wife."

"Check in with Russ at the station and he can tell you and your brothers where they can go to search for the missing agents," Berman said. Jack nodded and turned back to his snowmobile.

"One more question," he said, stopping Jack in his tracks. "We came from town by the road, but you didn't," he said as he pointed to the two sets of tracks on the snowy road and the single set from Jack's snowmobile. "How'd you get here?"

Jack pointed uphill from the road.

"I took the trails from town," Jack said. "They're usually faster than taking the road from Rick's place but with this much snow it was slow going. I decided to take the road back instead of slogging cross country."

"Jack owns a lot of the property up that way," Berman said pointing vaguely towards the hillside. "It's pretty rugged around here but further away there's some good land for hunting and fishing. Not really that accessible by foot though."

"That's for sure," Jack replied. "But there are a few good trails into the property if you know where they are. And there are a few shortcuts between my house and Rick's if you have an off-road vehicle." Jack smiled. "This land is our little family secret. So pretty, we like to keep it to ourselves."

Berman snorted.

"No matter how many times I ask," Berman said.

"I'm not about to give up my hunting grounds, Mark," Jack said with a grin. "I want to keep all those prime bucks for myself."

"Bucks?" Ziva asked, confused.

"Deer," he explained. Jack looked at Ziva. From his expression, he seemed to think Ziva may have been born under a rock. "Ziva is from Israel. Still working on her American slang."

"Male deer," Berman said pantomiming antlers. Ziva nodded in understanding. "Jack owned the record for the largest buck in the county for five years running. And when someone broke that record last year, he outdid them this year." Jack nodded. "No one's better with a hunting rifle than Jack Dunning."

"You know it," Jack said with a grin. "Everything from squirrels to bear don't stand a chance when I'm on the hunt."

They watched as Jack fired up his snowmobile and drove away.

"Jack and his brothers will be a big help, Agent Gibbs," Berman said. "They know this area better than anyone." He glanced a Ziva. She wasn't reassured by Berman's words but fortunately Berman didn't pick up on that. Jack hadn't said anything to incriminate himself but he had said enough to worry for his boys even more if Jack was responsible for their disappearance. "Let's go find Agent McGee and DiNozzo."

* * *

 _A/N: Well, isn't that ominous? Things are looking grim for our boys._

 _Thanks for all the reviews. I hope everyone who isn't leaving a review is enjoying this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love layering in the little foreshadowing moments from information gleaned from later seasons._

 _\- McGee is worrying about finding someone and having kids but we know that in a few short months, he'll be grinning and telling Tony that he had met "DoD Delilah."_

 _\- Tony brushed off Tim, when Tim asks about Tony's feelings for Ziva and he told Tim he's bad with kids, when we know that Tali is soon to be conceived._

 _\- It's a little bittersweet that we know Admiral McGee will change his perspective because of his illness after Tim reconnects with him in a few short months after this story is set. We didn't get to see much of that relationship but_ Squall _was a fascinating episode to me. It gave just enough information for me to extract my version of Tim's strained relationship with his father._

 _But most of all, I enjoy writing the brotherly relationship between Tim and Tony. I'm enjoying the new seasons but I miss that relationship between the two characters and the chemistry between Sean and Michael. So look for some more of that brotherly bonding in the next chapter!_


	15. Cold Fear

Three hours after leaving their shelter, they paused to catch their breath. Their hike hadn't been easy, and they had to stop frequently to rest. The terrain was rocky and uneven. They were hungry, tired and the cold air made it hard to breathe.

They also had to contend with at least two feet of fresh powder on top of at least eighteen inches of compacted base which hid the uneven terrain, especially since they had decided to stay up slope of the stream bed until they crossed the power lines. They knew the Dunnings used the valley with their snowmobiles and they didn't want to make it easy for the Dunnings to find and follow their tracks.

"This is a hell of a lot harder than running with your dog, McGee," he said as paused to regain his breath.

"No kidding," Tim replied. He was grateful to see that even his partner was out of breath. "At this rate, I'm not sure we'll make the next town today."

"I was hoping you weren't going to say that," he said.

"But you were thinking it too," Tim inferred.

He looked at his partner and reluctantly nodded. "But it won't be for a lack of trying," he said as he took a deep breath.

"We should keep moving, Tony, even if we have to slow our pace," Tim said.

He nodded and motioned for Tim to take the lead. It was harder work to forge their trail through the deep snow so they were taking turns leading the way. The other would follow in his footsteps and gain a measure of reprieve.

Not twenty minutes later, Tim held up his hand.

Looking around his partner's shoulder, he saw a break in the trees. The sun was shining through a hundred-foot wide clearing that ran the length of high-tension power lines. He could just hear the light buzzing of the power surging through the cables high above their heads.

"There's the power lines Kara told us about," Tim said.

"Yeah," he replied as he looked up and down the lines. "But which way to the town and which way leads to the middle of nowhere?"

"Does it matter?" Tim asked. "I thought we were hiking down the stream bed?"

"We are," he said as he eyed the open space suspiciously. "I just like to know which way to look for any lurking Dunnings." Tim nodded in understanding. "Especially since the natives are restless," he added as he pointed.

Tim followed his gaze. There was a set of snowmobile tracks along the power lines.

"Just one set of tracks," Tim said. "Can't see the direction from here but chances are they're coming back."

"Agreed," he murmured as he tried to figure out just how they could cross the open space without leaving a trail that the Dunnings could follow. " _Man on a Tightrope_ ," he said.

"Huh?" Tim asked.

"Nineteen fifty-three film about a circus trying to escape from behind the Iron Curtain," he said. "As they make their escape, they have to cross a bridge from Soviet-controlled East Germany to the American controlled West Germany."

"How'd they cross?" Tim asked.

"Oh," he said hesitantly. When Tim looked at him expectantly, he said, "Well they put on a performance for the Soviet soldiers then turned loose their wolves and threw an improvised bomb."

"We don't have any of those things," Tim said sourly. "And we don't have American soldiers waiting to save us on the other side either."

He shrugged. "I never said it was a perfect analogy," he said. "I just remembered the film."

Suddenly they saw movement to their left.

Ducking behind a tree, they watched as a herd of deer cautiously stepped out of the brush on the far side of the clearing. They watched as the lead deer looked around before bolting across the clearing. Suddenly a dozen more followed in a closely packed herd.

He looked at Tim and he could see his partner was thinking the same thing. Nature had just potentially provided them some cover.

Without a word, they made their way to where they had seen the deer. The herd had trampled the snow in a narrow path across the clearing and had disappeared towards the stream valley.

"It's our best shot," Tim said answering his unspoken question.

"Move quick," he said as he drew his weapon as a precaution. Tim mirrored him. "And try to follow in my tracks."

When Tim nodded, he peered up and down the clearing for any sign of movement. When he didn't see anything, he tucked the survival kit under his arm like a football before he bolted along the deer trail. Halfway across, he noted the single snowmobile trail heading towards the stream valley, but he kept running. When he was safely ensconced in the woods on the far side, he turned and watched as Tim joined him.

They took cover under some brush and watched for any signs that they had been seen.

"Looks like we're in the clear," he said. Tim nodded. "Let's go. I want to put more distance between us and that clearing."

He hurried along the deer trail until it turned up slope. Reluctantly, he holstered his weapon and looked at Tim as they paused to rest.

"That was lucky," Tim said.

"It wasn't a pack of wolves," he replied. "But I'll take it. Did you see the snowmobile trail?"

"Yeah. Just the one like I thought," Tim said.

"You know what's disconcerting?" he asked. Tim shook his head. "It probably passed us by and we never heard it." Tim jolted. "This snow must have dampened the noise from the engine."

"Well that should help us too," Tim said. "If we couldn't hear a snowmobile, the Dunning's probably won't hear us either."

"Good point," he agreed.

"It looked like it came from the right which is the way Kara told us to go to get back to town, which means she wasn't lying." He nodded. "Think she got hold of Gibbs?" Tim asked.

"We can only hope," he replied. "But unless Gibbs is hiding behind that tree, we need to rely on ourselves to get out of this situation." Tim nodded. "Let's stay up slope for now. We can cut down to the stream once we put some more distance between us and those tracks. I still don't trust that there aren't Dunnings lurking in these woods."

"Me neither," Tim agreed.

He took the lead and for the next hour and a half, he blazed their trail through the deep snow. They kept the stream valley in sight, but they stayed up slope to be cautious. And they kept an ear open for any snowmobiles, but the woods were devoid of manmade sounds except for the occasional plane flying far overhead.

"Let me take a turn," Tim said as they stopped to rest and drink a little water.

"I won't argue," he said. "On the bright side, I won't have to go to the gym for a month after this."

"Same," Tim replied. "Think its safe enough to move down to the stream valley?"

He looked down slope then he looked up the stream valley.

"How far do you think we've gone?" he asked.

Tim shook his head. "It's hard to tell. I can gage how far I've run on pavement but with this slow slog…" Tim trailed off.

"I know what you mean," he said. He wasn't sure he could judge how far they'd gone either. He looked at his watch. "It's almost noon. Let's push on for a few more hours and then we'll try to figure out if we're going to find civilization or if we need to find shelter."

"I really don't want that," Tim said.

"Neither do I," he replied. "But we're in the same boat as we were four days ago. We're soaked, freezing and the temperature is going to drop once the sun goes down." Tim nodded. "We're better off holing up for the night, building a fire, drying off and starting fresh in the morning."

"Ok," Tim said.

"Trudge on, McDuff," he said.

"Misquoting Shakespeare now?" Tim asked as he started to walk.

"Huh?" he asked in confusion.

"Lead on Macduff is a misquote from Macbeth," Tim replied. "It's supposed to be lay on, Macduff."

"What does that even mean?" he asked.

"Haven't a clue," Tim replied to his amusement. "We'll have to ask Ducky when we get home." He nodded. "What were you quoting if it wasn't Shakespeare?"

" _A Knight's Tale,_ " he replied. Tim stopped and looked at him incredulously. "It might not be historically accurate, but it was a good movie, McGee." Tim looked at him skeptically. "Not every movie needs to be a cinematic masterpiece like _It's a Wonderful Life_ or _Citizen Kane._ The soundtrack was excellent and Shannyn Sossamon was gorgeous."

Tim nodded in concession. "So what part of _A Knight's Tale_ were you thinking of?"

"Chaucer's introduction," he said. "To trudge: the slow, weary, depressing yet determined walk of a man who has nothing left in life except the impulse to simply soldier on."

Tim chuckled. "Thank goodness we're not naked."

"For many reasons, yes," he agreed emphatically. "Let's push on up here for a little while longer and make sure we aren't being followed by the Dunnings before we move down to the stream valley," he said.

Tim nodded and without another word, he pressed on through the deep snow. At first, they remained up slope from the stream but as they hiked, the valley began to narrow, and they were forced to the stream channel anyway. It eventually widened again but they were making better time along the stream banks.

They didn't talk much as Tim pressed through the deep snow. Even following in his wake was hard work.

But as the sun dipped behind the hillside, he called a halt.

"You ok?" Tim asked as they leaned against a tree to catch their breath.

"Yeah," he replied. "Just wanted to check the play call."

"You had to use a sports analogy?" Tim asked.

"Roll with it, McGoo," he said annoyed. "It's two o'clock. The sun goes down at five. We'll need time to find shelter."

"I'm not ready to give up yet," Tim replied. "I feel like something's just ahead."

"Ok," he agreed.

Tim started to walk and after a moment, he followed.

"But you know, Tony," Tim said. "Trudging does represent pride." He rolled his eyes as he realized that Tim was quoting _A Knight's Tale_ again. "Pride, resolve and faith in the Good Lord Almighty, please, rescue me from my current tribula…"

Suddenly, Tim disappeared into the snow.

"McGee!" he shouted as he tried to rush forward.

"Tony! Don't move!" Tim shouted, his voice muffled by the snow.

He stopped in his tracks. "Are you ok?" he asked as he looked at the hole.

"Mostly," Tim replied. He could hear pain in his friend's voice.

"Mostly?" he asked still afraid to move. "What do you mean mostly?" he demanded.

"I need you to carefully move at least five yards to your right or left," Tim said. "You aren't standing on solid ground."

He looked around. There was a tree about five yards to his right, so he chose that direction. When he reached the tree, he shouted, "Ok I'm on solid ground. Now what happened?"

"There's a waterfall," Tim replied. "I fell about ten maybe fifteen feet but I'm on the stream bed now."

"Are you ok?" he asked.

"Not really," Tim replied. "I'm surrounded by snow and ice. I can't really move. Well that isn't true. I can move backwards a little, but I'd rather not put myself under and unstable shelf of snow."

"I don't blame you," he replied as he carefully edged his way to the next tree closer to Tim's position. "Ok, I'm above you, Tim." He looked around. What he wouldn't give for a rope right now.

Suddenly he saw the axe handle. "Can you reach the axe and pull me out?"

He probably could reach the axe, but he'd never have the leverage needed to pull his partner free. He looked around. There was a large pine tree just up the hill. He could chop off one of the branches and use that to reach Tim.

"Yeah but I'm going to take it and cut a longer branch," he said.

"So, you'll be on solid ground," Tim said inferring what he meant.

"Yeah," he replied as he carefully reached out and took the axe.

"Uh, Tony," Tim said.

"Yeah?" he asked pausing.

"Hurry," Tim said in a small voice. "It is really cold down here and I'm pretty sure I'm bleeding."

"Hang tight, McGee," he said as he hurried up the slope towards a pine tree. He dropped the survival kit and started to sort out the branches. He found a good one and quickly chopped through it before returning to Tim. "We didn't get this far just to trip on the one-yard line."

"Another sports analogy?" Tim asked.

"Sorry, Tim. I don't know any geek analogies." Tim was silent. "McGee?" he asked as he returned to the edge of the stream. "Tim?"

"Sorry," Tim said, his teeth chattering. "I can't think of any geek analogies either."

Relieved that his partner was still awake, he lowered the branch into the McGee-sized hole. "Tim, can you reach that?"

He felt a slight tug. "Yeah."

"Ok," he said. "Hold on tight and I'm going to pull. But I'm going to need you to help."

"Right," Tim replied. "I'm ready."

He used the tree for leverage and started to pull. He wasn't sure how long it was until he saw Tim's head. That renewed his strength and one final pull brought Tim out of the hole and into the snow on solid ground.

But he didn't want to risk further catastrophe, so he hurried to his partner, grabbed him under his armpits and dragged him further up the slope until they were next to the pine tree. He looked at Tim. His lips were blue, he was shivering, and he was soaked.

"Hey there McChilly Willy," he said as he looked down at Tim's leg. His pants were slightly torn, and he saw some blood on his left leg. He checked Tim's leg and found a four-inch cut on his partner's leg. He pulled off his scarf and used it as a temporary bandage. "Tim?"

"It's really cold, Tony," Tim replied through chattering teeth.

"No kidding," he replied. He had to get Tim warm and soon or else hypothermia was going to set in. "Ok, I'm going to look for some shelter. Don't go anywhere."

"I don't think that will be a problem," Tim replied.

He frowned but hurried up the slope. He hadn't gone far before he sighted a fallen tree that was easily three feet in diameter. From the state of rot, it had been there for some time, and with the way it had fallen, it had also sheltered an area from snow. Instead of snow nearly three-feet deep, it was only a few inches deep here. If it was sheltered from the snow, then they'd be sheltered from the wind too.

Suddenly he slipped and nearly fell.

He recovered his balance and realized that he was standing on a sheet of bedrock. He followed the tree and found a nook where the tree met a large boulder. The area was largely free of snow and sheltered from the light breeze. The area wasn't large, but it would give him a base to build a shelter.

With a plan in mind, he hurried to Tim's side and picked up his partner. "Ok, Tim, I found us a place to crash where you can get warm," he said as he slung Tim's arm over his shoulder.

"Done enough crashing for one day," Tim replied.

"I know, man," he said as they stumbled up the hill. He reached the slab of bedrock and helped Tim to sit with his back against the tree. "Ok this is going to suck, but I need you to help me. You need to take off your coat and pants. They're soaked.

Tim nodded and pulled off the backpack. He took the pack and pulled out the bundle of blankets wrapped in the tarp.

"Good thing you wrapped the blankets in the tarp," he said. "The knapsack is soaked but the blankets are dry."

"Didn't have this in mind but that was the plan," Tim said as he pulled off his coat. His sweater was mostly dry, but his coat, pants and boots were soaked through. He set the tarp on the ground and helped Tim to pull off his soaked garments. As soon as they were off, he helped Tim to bundle up in the quilts and then wrapped the tarp around his partner.

"Be right back," he said as he hurried down the slope to the pine trees to where he left the axe and the survival kit. He cut off numerous branches and hauled them up to the slab with the kit.

He lay the pine branches down for a mattress and helped Tim to sit on top of them so he wasn't sitting flat on the ground. Tim had pulled his legs to his chest and he was huddled in the blankets, but he was still shivering uncontrollably.

He pulled off his coat and wrapped it around Tim's shoulders.

"Need a fire," Tim said.

"I know," he replied. He knew from looking at his partner that they desperately needed a fire if Tim was going to make it. The thought that he might not succeed was terrifying. "I'm working on it. I'll get some wood. Do you think you could shave some tinder?"

"I'll make it work," Tim said as he hunched over to conserve body heat.

He nodded and walked along the large tree until he found a couple of branches. He chopped them off and dragged them back to Tim. After breaking up the branches into smaller pieces, he pulled his knife from his pocket and handed it to Tim. Tim nodded and started to shave some tinder with shaking hands.

While Tim worked, he turned back down the slope and started to search for more wood along the length of the fallen tree. He was exhausted and starving but adrenaline countered that as he pushed himself to find more wood for a fire. His partner's life depended on it.

When he had enough wood to get a fire started, he returned to Tim's side.

He looked at Tim. "How we doing?"

"I've had better days," Tim replied miserably. He still looked cold, but he looked better since he had wrapped up in the dry blankets and his dry coat.

"I hear that," he said as he formed a teepee with the wood. He grabbed the matches from his coat pocket and lit the tinder. Just as he had done that first day, he carefully and patiently tended the fire as the small pieces of wood caught fire then as the larger pieces caught. "See, didn't even need that junk you kept."

Tim snorted as he glanced at the knapsack. "Forgot all about that," he said as he edged closer to the fire. "Probably got soaked anyway." He nodded. "I'm feeling better Tony."

He looked at his friend. His lips were still blue but instead of a deep blue, they were only tinged blue. He wasn't shivering as often any more but he still had the occasional fit.

"You look a little better," he admitted as he grabbed a couple large rocks and placed them on either side of the fire to reflect the heat towards Tim.

He grabbed Tim's socks and gloves and draped them over the rocks to dry. Then he spread out Tim's pants in front of the fire. Casting about, he found Tim's overcoat and draped it over the tree. Fortunately, Tim's hat was mostly dry.

Now he had to build a shelter.

He looked at the tree and the slab of bedrock. He could lean a bunch of pine branches against the tree to make a crude tent.

"Be right back," he said. "Don't go anywhere."

"Don't think that's a problem," Tim replied as he edged a little closer to the fire.

He hurried down to the stand of pine trees and quickly lopped off several more pine branches. It took several trips to collect enough to start their shelter and then some more time to trim them down a bit. When he was satisfied, he lined up a dozen branches on the ground then he carefully started to weave more of the branches. He felt like he was in basket weaving one-oh-one, but he knew it would form a pretty good roof.

When he was through, he picked it up and found that it was solid. He shook some of the snow free before he leaned it against the tree. The structure was maybe only three feet tall but that would help to keep their body heat in. But he could see plenty of gaps in his handy work.

He frowned as he tried to plug them as best as he could with the bits of branches he had trimmed off.

"What's wrong?" Tim asked.

"Our roof is holey," he replied as he looked around. He had taken down most of the pine branches within easy reach and sight of their shelter. "And I'm all out of pine."

Suddenly he had an image of an igloo. Well they had plenty of snow…

Without a second thought, he started to pile snow on top.

"What are you doing?" Tim asked confused.

"Insulating us with snow," he replied.

"I don't think that's going to work, Tony," Tim replied.

"Why not?" he asked as he piled it on just as the wind started to pick up. The sun was going down and with Tim down for the count he would have a lot of work to do by himself before it got dark. "Works just fine for the Eskimos."

Tim frowned as he packed snow around the top of their shelter. If anything, it would serve as great camouflage from the searching Dunning clan. He just hoped it didn't melt and drip on them in the middle of the night. They'd have to make sure the tarp was on the outside tonight.

"Trust me," he said as he leaned down to stir up the fire and add some more wood.

"I do," Tim replied. He looked at his partner. He met Tim's eye and saw unconditional trust. Heartened, he nodded. "I'm going to get more wood and when I come back, I'm going to bandage that leg. Be right back."

"Tony," Tim said catching his arm. "Thanks."

He smiled crookedly at his partner. "Don't mention it McGee. You'd have done the same thing for me."

"Yeah," Tim replied. "I would."

He turned and left their shelter in search of more wood. When he was out of sight of his partner, he took a deep breath and sighed. They weren't out of the woods yet, either literally or figuratively. But barring any more catastrophes, he was pretty sure his partner would live to fight another day.

It wasn't lost on him that things could have been much worse. They both could have fallen through the snow. Secondly, his friend and partner could have died. That drop could have been higher than ten or fifteen feet. But with the risk of hypothermia, Tim still might die if he couldn't keep the fire going.

He rubbed his face.

He didn't think he could deal with losing another partner and friend. He had lost too many as it was. Kate, Paula, Jenny. He had nearly lost Ziva. He'd be damned if he lost Tim.

Full of renewed determination, he made several more trips for wood and when he was finally satisfied he had enough, he grabbed their small survival kit. It didn't have much by way of medical supplies but there were a couple of gauze pads, an ace bandage and a small tube of antiseptic ointment.

Tim had turned socks and gloves over and he was currently turning over his pants.

"Stick out your leg and say 'ah,'" he said.

Tim struggled for a moment before he extracted his injured leg and extended it.

He removed his scarf from Tim's leg and examined the jagged four-inch cut on his shin. It looked ugly but thankfully it didn't seem that serious and it wasn't bleeding anymore.

"If this is all you end up with from your drop through the snow, we'll be lucky," he said as he pulled off his gloves to have a little more dexterity. Aware that his hands were filthy from tending their fire for the last four days, he carefully opened a gauze pad and used it to spread the ointment on Tim's cut.

"Sorry," he said as Tim winced. "It isn't easy to be delicate with frozen hands."

"It's not that," Tim replied. "That stuff is really cold."

"Oh," he replied as he placed the gauze over the wound and then wrapped the ace bandage around Tim's leg, securing the bandage in place with a knot. When he was done, he checked Tim's socks. They were nearly dry. Then he checked on Tim's coat. The wool overcoat was still soaked.

"Take your coat back Tony," Tim said as he struggled to free an arm from his cocoon.

"I'm warm enough from all that exercise," he countered. "Until you're warmed up and wearing pants again, you keep it."

"At least take one of the quilts," Tim insisted as he held out the blanket. "It won't do any good if you get hypothermia and I stay warm."

"Thanks," he said as he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and shifted closer to his partner. Despite his assurances that he was warm enough, the heat from the fire was welcome and his pants began to steam as they began to dry. "How are you feeling?"

"Still cold but not bone numbing cold," Tim replied as he held his hands out to the fire. "We're definitely not going to get out of these woods today."

"No," he replied. "But I'm ok with that. I'd rather spend another night in the woods than the alternative."

"You and me both," Tim replied softly. "You think that they're looking for us? You know, in the right place?"

"The Dunning trio probably laid some false trails," he conceded. "But Gibbs is a marine sniper and our Mossad hunting dog is pretty good at tracking too."

"You really shouldn't call her that," Tim said cautioning him even as he shivered again. "She'll kill you."

He grinned mischievously. "She'll have to find us first and then I'll gladly take my chances with Ziva!"


	16. Frozen Hope

She paused as she looked around the woods. There was absolutely no sign that any humans had been this way. There was actually no sign that _anything_ had been this way.

After Jack Dunning had left, they returned to the car to search for any additional evidence that Sheriff Berman might have missed. She even tried dusting the car for prints but most of them were too smudged to be of any use. She suspected that whoever had been driving had been wearing gloves to combat the cold or to hide evidence.

Without anything else to do, they chose Tim and Tony's likeliest path down the hill and away from the road.

She wanted to think that they were still alive somewhere but after four days with nothing to go on, the growing dread that had settled in the pit of her stomach was slowly swallowing any optimism she had left.

The thought of losing Tim and Tony left her feeling colder than the snow she was kneeling in as she examined the underbrush for signs of their passage. Ari was gone. Tali was gone. Since coming to NCIS, Tim and Tony had become her brothers. Was she fated to lose everyone she loved?

Not for the first time, she longed for a quiet life. Away from crime. Away from international intrigue. Away from danger, fear and loss. She longed for a life of peace where she could have a family and be happy.

She closed her eyes and recalled the family farm in Israel. She had so many fond memories as a child playing there and running among the olive trees without a care in the world.

One day, she would reach a breaking point and she would leave this life. It was only a matter of time.

If she were lucky, perhaps she would be able to return to the life she knew as a child. But this time, it would be with her own children. She would raise them to be artists or dancers or engineers. She would raise them to be people who would create something beautiful instead of people who destroyed…

"Find anything, Ziva?" Gibbs asked, drawing her from her happy thoughts.

"No," she replied. "With all this snow, it is impossible to guess which way they may have gone," she said as she looked at Gibbs. He frowned and looked around the woods. "It is impossible to track them when their footsteps have been filled in and covered with two feet of snow! For all we know, they are lying underneath our feet, frozen to death!" she said in frustration.

"They aren't dead," Gibbs said firmly.

"And you know that how, Agent Gibbs?" Berman asked.

"My gut," Gibbs replied softly as he looked around.

"Your gut? You're basing this whole charade off a guess?" Berman asked incredulously.

"Charade?" she asked angrily. "Two men are missing, and you call the search for them a charade?"

"Perhaps charade was the wrong word," Berman said hastily. "I'm just saying that chances are your men didn't survive the four days out in the woods. You said it yourself, they could be lying under our feet and we wouldn't know it."

"Then it is a good thing we aren't relying on chance," Gibbs said. Suddenly his satellite phone rang. The noise was discordant with the snow-hushed landscape that even birdsong hadn't broken.

"Gibbs," he said curtly. She looked at him, hoping to determine who it was that had called. She would not be surprised if it was Abby. She had called them or texted her almost every hour on the hour over the last four days. "Ok. I can't talk right now but I'll take a look at it tonight."

Gibbs hung up the phone and shook his head at her questioning look. He glanced at the sheriff while he pocketed the phone. Whatever the call had been about, he wasn't willing to share while they were within earshot of the sheriff.

They spent the remainder of their day searching the likeliest path that Tim and Tony might have taken but they didn't find any sign that their missing partners had passed that way.

In truth, she found that fact more disturbing. Between herself and Gibbs, they should have found something, anything, that would have signaled their friends had been there because when on the run one does not take time to hide a trail. And she also knew that Tim and Tony would try to leave some sign of their passage.

She was beginning to think that they had been kidnapped but she did not know to what point or purpose nor did she know who would want to kidnap two federal agents.

When the sun started to go down, they returned to the Farmhouse just as the wind picked up and more snow began to fall. A small crowd of volunteers had gathered, including Jack and William Dunning who were currently accepting condolences.

"All right folks," Sheriff Berman said. When the noise died down, Berman continued, "I want to thank everyone for their hard work today. We're going to compile the search data and refine things for the morning. Meet up at the football field at dawn for your assignments."

Some people, including Jack and William Dunning, left the Farmhouse but others settled in at the tables. Elsie and her son hurried to fill coffee cups and to take orders for meals.

"I need to head home to see my family, Agent Gibbs," Berman said wearily. "But I'll collect the information on the search from Russ and stop by later tonight to see if we can't refine our search plan." Gibbs nodded. "I'll see you in a few hours."

She watched as the Sheriff left.

After searching all day in the cold and deep snow, she was chilled, tired and sweaty. She was looking forward to showering, clean clothes and a hot meal. And from Gibbs' expression, he felt the same way.

They wearily made their way up to the second floor but before she could reach her room, Gibbs motioned for her to follow him. She followed him into his room and shut the door. She looked at him in confusion.

He pulled the satellite phone from his coat pocket and held it up.

She blinked. She had forgotten about the mysterious call Gibbs had received.

"That call," he said as he tossed the phone onto his bed. "Was from Kara Dunning."

"Kara Dunning?" she asked. "Why would she call you? And how did she get the number to that phone?"

"Not sure how she got the number," Gibbs replied. "I suspect she called the Navy Yard." She nodded in agreement. "She said she has information on Tim and Tony."

"She does?" she asked in surprise. "What?"

"I don't know," Gibbs replied shaking his head. "She didn't want to speak on the phone and I wasn't sure if I could trust Berman."

"How does that help?" she asked. "If she is unwilling to speak on the phone, how will we get the information from her? I doubt she would be willing to speak to us if we went to Rick Dunning's home to interview her."

"Ya think?" Gibbs asked sharply. Gibbs shook his head and took a steadying breath. The tension of the last four days had bubbled over. Even if it was a small reaction, she was pleased to see some emotion from Gibbs. "She said she can slip out of the house tonight after everyone is asleep. She's coming here. We'll meet her at midnight after the inn closes." She nodded. "There's a sensor on the second step. Don't trip it. I don't want Elsie to interrupt our conversation."

"I will look for it when I return for dinner," she said. "But if Kara had information on Tim and Tony, why did she not share it when we saw her three days ago?"

"She might not have had it then," Gibbs replied. "Or…"

"Or she was unwilling to say something in front of her Uncle because he is involved," she said. Gibbs nodded. "You think that Jack Dunning is involved?"

"I'm certain of it," Gibbs replied. "Just not sure how."

"And Sheriff Berman?" she asked. Gibbs hesitated. "It did sound as if he and Jack Dunning are close friends."

"Among others," Gibbs replied. She nodded and thought back to what Jack had said. He, his brother Will, Elsie, Alice Dunning, Sheriff Berman and Susan Berman had been close friends growing up. "The first morning here, I found my room unlocked and the bed made."

She furrowed her brow in confusion. "Elsie probably just came in to make the bed."

"I had the DEA case file on the desk," Gibbs said.

"You think she looked at the case file?" she asked. "For what purpose? You can't possibly believe that she is involved with the drugs?"

"No, but she could be providing information to the ones who are," Gibbs said. "Intentionally or unintentionally."

"To protect her friends," she surmised. Gibbs nodded. "Even if the Dunnings are involved with the drugs or Corporal Dunning's murder, we still have no proof."

"No," Gibbs agreed. "The only connection is weak at best."

"The drugs from Corporal Dunning's apartment match the DEA investigation," she said. "We do not know where Corporal Dunning got the drugs and there is nothing that indicates the drugs are being manufactured in Hastings."

Gibbs grabbed his phone and dialed a number. When it started to ring, he put it on speaker phone.

"Please tell me you found them," Abby said.

"Not yet," Gibbs replied. "PFC Gonzales."

"Corporal Dunning's squad mate that overdosed on meth?" Abby asked.

"Yeah," Gibbs replied. "Is he awake?"

"Not sure," Abby said. "I can check."

"Send Dorneget," Gibbs said. "Tell him that he doesn't leave that hospital until Gonzales gives up his dealer. And when he does, Dorneget needs to work with Metro to find him. We need to find a solid connection between that dealer and William Dunning."

"I may have a short list to work from," Abby said. "I've been running facial recognition on everyone in the bar that night. There were quite a few patrons with records."

"For drugs?" Gibbs asked.

"You are correct, Gibbs," Abby replied. "I will get photos of the usual suspects to Dorney."

"Did William Dunning interact with any of the people with criminal records?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," Abby replied. "I can check the footage."

"Send me the photos," she said. "I can look as well."

"Consider it done, Ziva," Abby said.

"Thanks, Abs," he said.

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs," Abby said stopping him from hanging up. "What about Tim and Tony?"

"We didn't find anything to indicate it wasn't an accident," Gibbs replied. "Ziva will send you more photos and prints." Gibbs looked at her. "And we didn't find any sign of them during our search."

"It is as if they vanished into thin air," she said.

"That is impossible," Abby countered.

"They're somewhere," Gibbs agreed. "And we're gonna find them."

"But not until tomorrow," Abby said.

"Yeah," Gibbs replied unhappily.

"I'll get Dorney over to the hospital straight away," Abby said. "And I'll process the evidence Ziva sends as soon as I get it."

Gibbs hung up the phone and looked at her.

"I will send Abby the photos and prints," she said. He nodded and when he didn't say anything more, she left his room.

She returned to her room and sent Abby the photos she had taken. When those has been sent off, she gathered her things and took a shower. By the time she reached the common room, most of the searchers had left the Farmhouse and Gibbs was seated at a table drinking a cup of coffee.

Elsie brought her a cup of coffee and a moment later, she brought them plates of meatloaf, mashed potatoes and roasted Brussels sprouts. She ate mechanically because she knew she need to keep up her energy, but she didn't really taste her meal.

Sheriff Berman returned to the Farmhouse several hours later with his Deputy, Russell Cunningham, and a large map of the area that was marked to show areas that had been searched. Only a few people remained at the Farmhouse but as Berman spread out the map on the table, they nodded and left.

"Why are we not searching this area?" she asked as she pointed to the area northwest of the road.

"It isn't possible to get to this area on foot from the road," Berman said as he pointed to the steep contours along the road. She nodded, recalling the steep hillside from their ride this morning. "Unless your agents are rock climbers."

"No," Gibbs said. "Is it possible to reach this area by snowmobile?"

"It's got to be," Russ replied. Berman looked at his deputy. "Most of that is Jack Dunning's property."

"He said that there are trails between his brother's home and his home," she said as she pointed at the rugged terrain between town and Jack Dunning's home.

"You think your agents walked more than five miles towards Jack's home and instead of stopping for help, they hiked into the woods?" Berman asked.

"I've seen stranger things," Gibbs replied. Berman looked skeptical. "They could have also been taken and dumped on the property."

"By who?" Berman asked.

"I don't know," Gibbs replied. "But I'm not eliminating any options, Sheriff. There's a lot of territory we're not searching that maybe we ought to be."

Berman looked at Gibbs skeptically.

"I'm not even sure how we'd get into the area above the crash, Agent Gibbs," Berman said with a frown. "Jack wasn't lying when he said that no one knows the trails onto their property. Jack's father and grandfather were notoriously secretive too."

"Popular rumor was that Benjamin Dunning was a moonshiner during Prohibition," Russ said.

"Moonshiner?" she asked.

Mark looked at her and said, "Alcohol was made illegal in this country by the…"

"Eighteenth amendment," she finished for him. "I studied this when I took my citizenship test. It was repealed by the twenty-first amendment. I am merely not familiar with the term moonshiner."

"Alcohol was often moved at night," Gibbs said.

"In the moonlight," she said getting the connection. "Thank you. Carry on."

"Anyway," Mark said slightly amused. "The only people who can access that property is the Dunnings."

"Which would make it an excellent place to dump several Federal Agents," Ziva said.

"Are you suggesting that Jack kidnapped and dumped your agents on his own property?" Berman asked.

"Not suggesting anything," Gibbs said. "But what if the Dunnings aren't the only ones who know how to access the property?"

"A supposedly inaccessible stretch of property would be an excellent place to hide illegal activity," she pointed out.

"I can't argue with that, Agent David. But even if someone did know how to access the property," Berman said. "The only people who knew your agents were in town were myself, Shirley and Russ."

"This is a small town, Sheriff," Gibbs said. "You're telling me that half the town didn't know there were Federal Agents in town within minutes of their arrival?"

"I heard Shirley talking to Fred," Berman said as he looked to Russ. "He came in to pick up the mail right after I escorted Agent DiNozzo and McGee into the conference room."

"Fred is our mailman," Russ explained before they could ask. "In addition to mail, he delivers the latest gossip like it's his job." Russ looked at Berman pointedly.

"Fine," Berman said. "I'll ask Jack how to access his property to increase the search radius."

"No," she said. Berman looked at her. "We can find access. If someone attacked our colleagues, it would be best to keep our suspicions to ourselves and not tip our palms."

"Did you mean: hands?" Berman asked.

"Same difference," she said sharply. "My point is the same, the more people who know we suspect something, the greater the risk to our friends."

"She's got a point, Mark," Russ said. "Best way to keep a secret is to not tell anyone."

She looked at Gibbs and noted a slight upturn at the corner of his mouth. Anyone who cites one of Gibbs' rules, even unknowingly, would gain favor in Gibbs' eye.

Sudden movement caught her attention from the kitchen. Elsie was working with her son to clean up after the busy dinner rush. For a moment, she thought that Elsie might come to the common room to join them, but she remained inside the kitchen.

"I still don't understand why someone would attack your agents for investigating a murder in Washington," Russ said.

"This is about the drugs the DEA has been searching for," Berman said suddenly. Gibbs looked at Berman impassively. "You told Rick and Kara that you thought Brian might have been killed because of drugs. That he knew something."

"We have no evidence linking the drugs to anyone in Hastings," she said diplomatically.

"Maybe not but I can put two and two together, Agent David," Berman said. "And it would explain why your agents are missing. Brian was killed because he knew something, and your agents were attacked before they could find out what." Gibbs nodded. "Do you have any leads?"

"Nothing I could take to court," Gibbs replied.

"You find a way onto the Dunning property and I'll go with you to search, Agent Gibbs," Berman said. "And we'll keep this to ourselves. If someone is moving drugs through Hastings, we want to put a stop to that." Russ nodded in agreement.

She glanced at Gibbs who nodded.

"We should get going," Berman said. Russ nodded. "We have an early morning. Good night, Agent Gibbs. Agent David."

Russ echoed Sheriff Berman and they stood up just as Elsie entered the common room, wiping her hands on a towel. They bid her good night and after they bundled up, they left.

She glanced at the clock. It was nearly ten o'clock.

"We should do the same," she said as she stood and started to walk towards the stairs. Gibbs followed her.

"Heading to bed, Agent David?" Elsie asked.

"Yes," she replied. "It has been a long day and it will be an early morning."

Elsie nodded and made her way to the front door. She locked up for the night.

"I set up the coffee pot and laid out some blankets on the sofa, Agent Gibbs," Elsie said.

Gibbs smiled slightly. "Figured I'd try the bed tonight," Gibbs replied.

"Well, it's ready for you all the same," Elsie said. "Good night."

She nodded and made her way upstairs, noting the sensor on the stairs as she walked. She met Gibbs eye briefly before she entered her room.

Instead of going to sleep, she pulled up her computer and pulled up topographic maps of the area. She spent the next two hours scouring topographic maps until she found several possible points of entry into the Dunning property.

Finally, at quarter to eleven, she left her room and returned to the common room taking care to not trip the sensor. The common room was dark except for a small lamp and the light from the fireplace in the lounge area. Gibbs had stoked the fire and added fresh wood, warming the lounge area nicely.

Gibbs was at the window in in the common room, watching the street with a cup of coffee in hand. She collected a mug of coffee and joined him. With the exception of the street lights, the main street had gone dark for the evening. A light snow was falling but the winds were calm.

"I found several places where we may be able to access the Dunning property," she said softly.

"Good," Gibbs replied.

They fell silent as they watched the street.

Suddenly they saw a dark form, hurrying towards the inn. They opened the door and ushered Kara inside.

While Kara took off her coat, she collected another cup of coffee and brought it the lounge where Gibbs had brought Kara, so she could sit in front of the fire. She accepted the coffee and took a sip.

"You told Agent Gibbs you had information on Agent DiNozzo and Agent McGee?" she asked as she sat in the chair next to Kara. Gibbs sat on the coffee table.

"I saw your agents," Kara said softly. "The day of their accident."

"Where?" he demanded.

"At my father's cabin," Kara said.

"Jack Dunning has a cabin west of the road," she said. Kara nodded. "Your father owns much of the property in that area."

"Yeah," Kara said. "He attacked your agents. Then my dad and Uncle Rick dumped them somewhere on our property." She frowned as she imagined Tim and Tony being dumped in the woods in the middle of a blizzard. "My Dad and Uncle Rick came to the cabin afterwards and I heard them talking about it. I was in the loft, but they thought I was sleeping."

"You heard them say they attacked my agents?" Gibbs asked.

Kara nodded.

"Somehow, your agents found the cabin," Kara continued. "Lucky for them my father was gone 'cause he'd have killed them outright."

"As opposed to dumping them in the woods in a blizzard," she retorted angrily. Kara flinched.

"Ziva," Gibbs said, silencing her. She deflated. It wasn't Kara's fault that her father had attacked her partners and she shouldn't take her frustrations out on a young girl who was trying to do the right thing.

"I gave them some supplies and directions back to town and that was the last I saw of them." Kara looked at her hands. "I'm not sure if they found shelter or if they tried to get back to town or if my father or uncles caught them again." She was getting worked up, so Gibbs put a hand on hers. She calmed down for a moment. "They asked me to call you, but I couldn't get away. They've been watching me."

"Your father and uncles?" Gibbs asked. Kara nodded. "They know you saw my agents?" Gibbs asked.

Kara nodded. "Your agents took their guns and cell phones. My father would have noticed they were missing along with some of our supplies. So, I messed up the cabin and told my father that they forced their way in and took everything."

"He must have been angry," she said alarmed that Kara's actions might have made things worse for her friends.

Kara laughed mirthlessly. "He was livid," Kara replied. "They tried looking for your people, but I don't know if they found them or not. The storm got too bad for them to stay out too long."

"Do you know why they attacked my agents?" Gibbs asked.

"Because of that junk they cook up in the woods," Kara replied bluntly. She jolted. They had expected that this case had something to do with drugs. They hadn't expected that the Dunnings were directly involved with manufacturing them. Apparently, the Dunning family had moved from manufacturing and selling illegal alcohol to illegal drugs. "Uncle Will sells it all over the place. He drives a truck, so he sells it wherever he goes."

"That fits with the wide distribution of the drugs," she said.

"My father said that they were here to investigate Brian's death, so I guess he was worried they'd find out he was making that stuff. Especially since Uncle Will ran into Brian while he was meeting a dealer."

Gibbs looked at her. She shook her head. She had searched the footage to see if she could determine why William Dunning had been at the bar, but she hadn't found anything. But now Abby had identified patrons who had records. She had the footage with her. She would search it again, with those photos in hand, once they were through talking with Kara.

"Maybe the dealer is responsible for Brian's death," Kara said. She could hear hope in the girl's voice. Obviously, she didn't want to think that her father or uncles might have killed her brother.

She looked at Gibbs. It was possible. Drug dealers have killed for less and threatening to have their supply cut off was as good as reason as any. Then again, it was also possible that one of the Dunnings was responsible for Corporal Dunning's death.

"Is the sheriff involved with the drugs?" she asked.

Kara looked startled then shook her head. "I don't think so, no."

"Do you know a Michael Harper?" she asked.

"Mike?" Kara asked. "Yeah. He and mom were high school sweethearts." She glanced at Gibbs. "But when he went off to college, she married my dad. He still comes around on occasion but only when my dad isn't around."

"Your father and Michael don't get along?" she asked.

Kara shook her head. "I think my dad thought he was still sweet on my mom," Kara replied. "And I think the feeling was mutual."

"Is there anyone else involved with the drugs?" Gibbs asked.

"I can't be sure," Kara said hesitantly. "But I don't think so."

Gibbs nodded. "Is there anything else?" Gibbs asked. Kara shook her head. "Thank you for telling us this."

"I told you because it's the right thing to do, Agent Gibbs. That junk messes up everyone's lives. It got Brian killed and turned my father into someone I don't know any more," Kara said as she stood. "And I want it to stop even if it means turning in my own father. Brian deserves as much."

He nodded. She watched as Gibbs escorted Kara to the door. When he returned he looked worried and she knew why.

"No one is searching the area near the Dunning's cabin," she said. "Because we believed it was inaccessible."

"That's not true," Gibbs replied. "At least one of the three Dunnings is searching near there."

"Only Jack and William were here to hear the Sheriff's message tonight. Richard Dunning," she said. Gibbs nodded. "I will plan a route towards Jack Dunning's cabin."

Gibbs nodded. "We better hope that we are the first to find Tony and McGee.


	17. Cool Head

He sighed contentedly as he snuggled under the pile of blankets. There was nothing better than spending a cold, snowy morning snuggled under the covers in a warm bed. It somehow felt like cheating nature to be so warm under the blankets when it was so cold outside. It was even better when cuddled next to someone if you had that opportunity. And he seemed to be lucky enough to be sharing his bed with someone this morning.

He snaked his hand around her waist to pull her closer, but he was startled when she smacked his hand away.

He jolted awake and looked around blearily.

"Keep those roaming hands to yourself, McGee," Tony muttered irritably.

He instantly retracted his hand and blinked in shock and confusion. His sleep-fogged brain struggled to rearrange the pieces of his fractured memory in an effort to find the ones that would explain why on earth he was sharing a bed and apparently spooning with Tony.

But as he opened his eyes, he only grew more confused. They were in a space that was barely big enough for the two of them, the ceiling was made of pine, the walls were wood, and rock and the floor was covered with pine. They were buried under their coats, two blankets and a tarp.

He sighed and rubbed his face. He remembered now. They were still out in the woods in West Virginia. He had fallen through the snow in the creek bed and they had taken shelter while he tried to warm up.

Tony had built them a fire, saving him from hypothermia but he couldn't collect enough wood to last the night. And as much as neither of them liked the idea, they knew that sharing their blankets would be the best way to survive the night without the benefit of their cave shelter and a fire.

And they had been right. The combination of their body heat, two coats, two quilts, a tarp and the small space had kept them downright warm overnight at least in comparison to the temperature outside of their shelter. It wasn't as warm as their cave, but it had kept them warm enough to avoid hypothermia.

"Sorry Tony. Trust me, I thought you were someone else," he said as he sat up slightly.

"I hope so," Tony muttered as he stiffly sat up. "Hopefully she was pretty."

"Definitely," he replied without thinking.

"Tall?"

"Yeah,"

"Smart."

"Yeah."

"And dark haired?"

"Forget it," he replied shutting down Tony's fishing expedition. "I never saw who it was in my dream."

"Then how did you know that she was pretty, tall and smart?" Tony asked in confusion.

"When you dream about being with an imaginary woman, isn't she your idea of an ideal woman?" he asked.

"Point taken," Tony replied. Tony shrugged. "I had to try."

"You're also assuming she was someone I know," he said dryly.

"Are you saying she wasn't?" Tony asked astutely.

He looked at his partner, doing his best to communicate that he was done speaking on the subject. Tony smiled impishly.

He propped himself up on one elbow and looked around at their small shelter. He hadn't been in a fit state to really get a good look at it yesterday and had fallen asleep not long after nightfall. It was just over six feet long and maybe three feet high at best.

Tony had done a good job building the roof from pine branches that he had woven together and he vaguely recalled Tony saying he had covered it with snow to further insulate them. Tony had said that it would work like an igloo. He had been skeptical, but he had never been happier to be wrong.

Apparently, after the fire had burned down to embers, Tony had done his best to seal up the opening with snow to contain as much of their body heat as possible and it had worked passably well. He wasn't exactly warm, but he wasn't freezing either.

"You did a good job with this," he said as he pointed at the shelter.

Tony looked around, clearly pleased. "Not bad for making it up as I go," Tony conceded. He shook his head. "But I'd rather not have to build another one of these."

He nodded. The darkness was lifting. They could see well enough to get moving.

"How's your leg?" Tony asked.

He looked at his leg and shrugged. It was throbbing lightly. He wouldn't know more unless he looked at the wound, but he wasn't about do that right now. Tony had done his best to dress the wound with the limited amount of medical supplies they had in the kit and he didn't want to remove that bandage because they had no means of replacing it.

"Still attached," he said as he stretched out. He frowned as he kicked a rock. "Why is there a rock under our blankets?"

"It was sitting next to our fire," Tony said as he rubbed his eyes. "It was warm…"

"So, you used the ambient heat from the rock to keep our feet warm," Tim finished for him. Tony nodded. "Good idea."

"Thanks," Tony said. "I'll admit, that was one of my more inspired ideas."

He sat upright and leaned against the tree next to Tony. He took a moment to make sure to tuck his pants into his boots and he pulled his socks up over his pants, wincing as he bumped his injury. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," Tony muttered as he pulled on his coat. "But a couple of things first." He looked at Tony expectantly. "No more falling through the snow. We stick to the tree line. It might be easier to walk next to the stream bed, but I don't want to find any more waterfalls the hard way."

"Deal," he said without hesitation.

"And come hell or high water, we make it to a town today," Tony said. "One night of man cuddling, even by necessity is enough for me."

He smiled slightly at Tony. "Don't worry," he said. "Your secret is safe with me. I won't tell if you don't." Tony nodded. "You know this would be a lot easier if we had snowshoes."

"Shall I just run back to the Dunning's cabin and ask Kara if she as a couple pair we could borrow?" Tony asked sarcastically.

He frowned.

"No," he replied. "But I think we can make some."

"Make snowshoes?" Tony asked. "How you going to MacGyver that one, McGee?"

"All snowshoes do is spread your weight out over a greater surface area," he said as he spread his hand out to demonstrate. "We can build the frames from the pine branches and use your weaving technique for the foot beds."

"How do we tie them together? We don't have rope," Tony said.

He reached over and grabbed the medical kit. Inside there was a brand-new roll of medical tape. Tony looked at him skeptically.

"We don't need to hike the Appalachian Trail with them Tony," he said. "We just need them to last for ten, maybe fifteen miles."

"How do you think medical tape will hold up against the snow?" Tony asked.

"We can split the tape in three," he said as he held up the tape. It was about two inches wide. "And we can braid it to get extra strength." Tony looked at him and silently asked if he thought it would work. He nodded.

"Ok. What materials do we need?" Tony asked.

"We need four sturdy pine branches, as thick as possible that will still bend," he said as he mimed bending the pine branch into a tear drop shape. "The longer the better. We can trim up the parts that won't bend for supports under the shoe. The branches we trim off can be woven together for the foot beds."

"Got it," Tony said as he pulled on his coat. Tony grabbed the axe and looked at their snow door. "Hulk smash!"

He rolled his eyes as his partner burst through the snow and disappeared into the woods. With the snow door gone, a light breeze pushed into their shelter causing him to shiver.

While Tony was gone, he mentally went through his plans and tried to figure out where they might encounter problems.

"Here you go, McGoo," Tony said as he shoved a branch into their shelter. He flinched as some of the branches smacked him in the face. "Trim that up while I work on these ones."

He grabbed his knife and got to work. Soon he had a neat pile of smaller branches and one longer branch. He did a couple of tests and figured out where best to bend the branch before he grabbed the roll of tape. Pulling off his gloves, he opened the medical tape and pulled out a strip. He worked quickly to split the tape into three strands before he twisted it like rope and then braided it.

Tony set two of the untrimmed pine branches against the opening and climbed into their shelter with the third. Tony slid his legs under their pile of blankets and leaned against the tree.

"Hey, this looks great," Tony said as he examined his makeshift rope. Tony tested the strength. "This could work."

"I got the idea from Mythbusters," he said bashfully.

"Duct tape boat?" Tony asked.

"Duct tape bridge," he replied. "It isn't duct tape but any port in a storm."

Tony stared at him for a moment before he shook his head.

They worked together and quickly created a frame for the snow shoe and trimmed down the excess length. While he attached a couple of struts to provide support for their feet Tony wove some of the smaller pine branches together. When he was done, they attached that to the snowshoe and some more of the 'rope' would help secure their shoes to the snowshoe.

"Well it looks like a snowshoe," Tony said. "Let's make another and I'll test them. Then we'll see if it's worth it to put in the effort to make another set.

Nodding, they put their heads together and produced a second shoe in half the time. Tony grabbed the shoes and stepped outside. He pulled on his coat and gloves before following his partner.

Climbing out of their shelter, he winced as he put weight on his injured leg. Hiking was going to hurt but there wasn't anything he could do about it. Either he hiked out or he sat around waiting for the Dunnings to find him. And if he stayed, Tony would stay too because Tony would never leave him behind.

While the thought was warming, he also wasn't willing to put his partner in danger. So, while it would hurt, he'd grin and bear it for both their sakes.

He leaned against the tree to take the weight off his leg as he watched Tony attach the snowshoes to his feet. Tony looked at him and then gingerly started to walk towards the deeper snow. He sank a little in the light powder at the surface, but the shoes worked. Tony wasn't sinking thigh deep into the snow.

"I have to walk a little like a duck," Tony said as he returned. "But they work." Suddenly Tony grinned.

"Let's make another set," he said with a grin.

"Another set," Tony agreed as he removed the shoes.

They climbed into their shelter and back under their blankets. Working together, they produced two more snowshoes in short order. When they were done, they packed up their supplies and emerged from their shelter.

He glanced at his watch. It was almost ten o'clock. They had lost three hours making their makeshift footwear.

While Tony dismantled their shelter to make it harder for any searching Dunnings to see that they had stopped for the night, he used the opportunity to try to walk around with his snowshoes. Tony was right; he had to walk a little like a duck, but it was easier than wading through deep snow. Although with the injury to his leg, his walking like a duck was more like a limping like a penguin.

While he was walking, he took a moment to collect walking sticks to help test the footing before they started on their way. He trimmed two long, relatively straight branches and rejoined Tony.

"To make sure we're on solid ground?" Tony asked as he took the stick.

"That and to help keep your balance," he replied as he noted that Tony had tossed their roof into the snow and covered the pine with more snow. Unless you were on top of it, it would be impossible to see that the snow was disturbed.

Tony nodded and started down the hill towards the stream bed.

While his leg was still stiff, he allowed Tony to take the lead but by lunch time, he was able to take his turn blazing their trail. Walking with their makeshift snowshoes was definitely easier but it was still incredibly hard work.

Hours later, he pulled his bottle of water out of his pocket. It only had a precious few sips left. He handed it to Tony who tried to push it back towards him. He did his best Gibbs' glare and was happy to see that Tony relented. Tony took the bottle back and took a small sip before handing it back.

"What time is it?" Tony asked.

"Three o'clock," he replied as he tried to slow his breathing. "Almost five hours since we left."

"I think we've been averaging about a mile and a half per hour," Tony guessed. "Assuming we did about four miles yesterday and…" Tony took a moment to do the mental math. "And the seven and a half today. We've put in around eleven miles. Kara said it was about ten miles to the next town. We should almost be there."

"No," he corrected. "Kara said it was between fifteen and twenty miles if we follow the creek, which is what we've been doing."

"So, at best, we're only four miles from the town," Tony said as he looked to the sky for signs of smoke. "And at worst, we're only halfway there," Tony said. He nodded in agreement. "At least the shoes are helping. I feel like I've only run a half marathon instead of a full one."

He snorted and then sighed. The thought that it was three o'clock and that they were potentially ten miles from safety was depressing.

"Maybe we should have tried to follow the power lines," he said but Tony cut him off.

"And get ourselves shot?" Tony asked. "This is the boonies. I can promise you that everyone up here hunts."

He frowned. Somehow, he suspected that was a gross exaggeration, but he wasn't going to argue with Tony.

"For all we know, the Dunnings are better marksmen than Gibbs," Tony said but he cut himself off. "Ok probably not Gibbs. But they're still probably really good. I'm not about to take on three homicidal, drug dealers on their home turf." Tony looked at him. "And you know that too."

"Doesn't mean I like it," he replied.

"Of course not," Tony replied.

"Well, on the bright side, we're still on the right track," he said as he pointed to the stream channel. Now that they were further downstream in the watershed, the stream here was wider and parts of it was still open and flowing. "I think we've been doing better than a mile and a half per hour these last couple hours. It's feels like its flatter down here." Tony nodded in agreement. "We're getting close to the valley. The town should be ahead."

Tony turned and scanned the horizon. He followed his partner's gaze. He didn't see any signs of smoke. "Either they don't have fireplaces or we're still too far out from the town." Tony said. "How you holding up?"

In truth, his leg hurt like hell and he was cold, exhausted and hungry. "I'm fine Tony," he said quickly.

"You are a terrible liar, McGee," Tony muttered. "But I get it. We've got to almost be there. Can you hang in there for a little while longer?"

"I don't have much choice," he said as he started off at a decent pace. Startled, Tony hurried to catch up to him. He slowed his pace when he heard Tony behind him.

As he had pointed out, it was getting flatter and while they didn't increase their pace, they didn't slow down either. By the end of their hour, they probably had covered almost three miles.

He paused and looked at Tony. "It's four o'clock Tony," he said as he looked around the rapidly darkening landscape. He silently asked if they should press on. Tony looked at him and then ahead of them.

While today hadn't been as bone-numbingly cold as the previous day, neither of them really wanted to try to shelter for the night again. They were out of water and hadn't eaten in almost thirty-six hours.

Tony looked up at the sky. The sun might be setting but the mostly full moon was high in the sky and there were only a few wispy clouds.

"Think the moon might be enough to see by?" Tony asked.

"I'm willing to try," he said.

Tony chucked his shoulder and nodded. Without a word, Tony pressed on.

They had been walking for maybe another hour when Tony stopped so quickly, he almost ran into his partner.

"What?" he asked.

"You see that, Tim?" Tony asked as he looked ahead.

"What?" he asked as he looked at Tony. Tony pointed and through the screen of trees, he could see the headlights of a car traveling along a road.

"A car," Tony replied.

He grinned, and they started walking. A few minutes later, they reached the edge of the road. Looking ahead, they realized that they were within sight of a town. They could see cars cautiously traversing streets and a few children were having a snowball fight alongside a house.

Suddenly his phone started to ring. Surprised, he pulled it out of his pocket and examined it.

"I thought you turned that off," Tony said as he noted the mass quantity of text messages mostly from Abby and Ziva, although there were a few from his sister.

"Turned it on this morning when we left. I hoped it would pick up a signal somewhere along the way," he muttered. "Better late than never." He scanned a couple of the messages, but they were all the same. Frantic questions asking them where they were and telling them to call in as soon as possible.

"Check your messages when we get someplace warm," Tony muttered as he blew air onto his hands.

"Right," he replied as he pocketed his phone. They pulled off their makeshift snowshoes and hurried onto the road. They quickly reached the town and walked into the main business district. There wasn't much to the small town but there was a pizza shop that had a flashing neon sign that said 'open.'

They entered the shop and thankfully it wasn't very busy. It looked to be mostly a take-out pizza shop but there was a small dining area with a large fireplace. There was a sign at the front that they should seat themselves, so they hurried over to a table by a large fireplace. They quickly removed their coats and wet boots, setting them near the fire to dry. The heat from the bright fire was extremely welcome.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Gibbs' cell.

"Gibbs isn't answering his phone," he said as it went to the generic voice mail message since Gibbs had never bothered to personalize his voice mail. "It's going to voice mail."

"He's probably still in the mountains looking for us," Tony said. "Sat phone," they said together. "Call Abby. She'll have the number."

"Can I help you gentlemen?" a waitress asked as she stopped at their table. She looked at them curiously.

"Water," he said suddenly feeling very parched. "Lots of it."

"And the largest pizza you got. Pepperoni?" Tony asked. He nodded. At this point, Tony could have asked for shoe leather on their pizza and he probably would have eaten it. "Pepperoni."

"The largest pizza we have is a twenty-cut pizza," she said as she looked at them. "Is it just for the two of you?"

"We haven't eaten all day," he replied.

"Are you sure you're all right?" she asked as she looked at them. They were soaked to the mid-calf from their hike and more than a bit scruffy. And their makeshift snowshoes were leaned up against the hearth.

Tony looked at him. "You wouldn't believe the day we had," he said charmingly. "You see we had some car trouble a ways back and we had to hike into town."

"No cell coverage," he added as he held up his phone. She nodded and was about to leave when she noticed his gun. She jolted at the sight of it. "It's ok," he said hastily. "We're federal agents," he said as he pulled up his sweater slightly to reveal his shield.

She instantly relaxed. "Oh, so you're coming in to help with the search then. We've all heard about the missing agents in Hastings," she said. He looked at Tony then nodded. "Do you need me to call someone to come get you?"

Tony shook his head. "We managed to get a signal when we got into town. Thanks though. We're covered."

She nodded and turned on her heel as he started to dial.

"Tim!" Abby shouted so loud that he pulled the phone back from his ear.

"Jeez Abs," Tim said. "Take it easy."

"It is you! I almost couldn't believe it when I saw your GPS signal show up. I thought I was dreaming so I pinched myself and it really hurt. I mean really really hurt." He smiled in spite of himself and he saw that Tony was smiling too. "But it was still on the screen and now you've called me and you're ok! We've been so worried. I bet Gibbs is about bouncing off the walls. Even he's been worried. It's been five days and not a word. I was afraid you two… But you aren't. You're ok and Tony's ok. Tony is ok, isn't he?" she asked, doubt suddenly creeping into her voice.

He had put the phone down on the table and put the call on speaker about halfway through Abby's excited chatter. Although given how loud Abby was speaking, the speakerphone wasn't really necessary. He had turned down the volume to attempt to keep the conversation to themselves.

"I'm fine Abs," Tony said smiling at her enthusiasm. "We need the number to Gibbs' satellite phone."

"Why?"

"Because we don't know where he is," Tony said. "We haven't been found by the rescuers. We found ourselves."

"Where are you guys?" she asked puzzled.

"About ten miles west of Hastings," Tony replied. "I don't know the town's name. We followed a creek down the mountain to the town."

"Look Abs, we really need to talk to Gibbs," he said, cutting in. "This is important. We'll tell you everything later."

"Ok," she said as she rattled off the satellite phone number. He wrote it on a napkin. "I'll hold you to it Timmy!"

"I know Abs," he said. "Talk to you soon."

He had barely hung up the phone before Tony dialed the satellite phone number.

"Gibbs."

His answer was curt, impatient and the most wonderful single word he had heard in five days.

"Boss, it's us. Just don't act surprised. The Dunning clan tried to kill us," Tony said.

"I know," Gibbs said without hesitation.

"You know?" they both asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Gibbs replied as if it was obvious that the Dunnings would have reason to kill two federal agents. "Any word?"

"We're ok. We're ten miles west of Hastings in another small town. I don't know which one though. Jack and Rick Dunning ambushed us after we interviewed them at Jack's house. They dumped us in the woods. We've been holed up in a cave while the storm blew itself out," Tony continued. "We hiked out over the last two days."

"What's the status of Agent MacGregor?" Gibbs asked.

"I'm fine, Boss," he replied smiling at his thinly veiled alias.

"Ok. Stay where you are Agent DeLuca. Ziva and I will pick you up. Next time, remember to use chains when you're driving in the mountains," he said.

"Uh, right," he said as Tony looked at him puzzled. Unfortunately, he was too distracted by the arrival of their pizza to wonder what Gibbs was playing at. "Good advice. We're in the pizza shop on the main street." His mouth started to water at the sight of the fresh pizza. He picked up a slice and tore into it greedily.

"We'll be right here, Boss," Tony said around a mouthful of pizza. "Can't wait to see you and Ziva."


	18. Cool Relief

She watched as the search parties left the football field on their snowmobiles. While she appeared to be watching them indiscriminately, her eyes were drawn to Jack and William Dunning.

Jack, in his brown jacket with orange blazes on the shoulder, and William, in an orange camouflage jacket, talked briefly before they sped off down the road towards their assigned search quadrant which was near the spot where they had found Tim and Tony's car.

"Were you able to find an entryway onto the Dunning property, Agent David?" Sheriff Berman asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"Several," she replied.

"Impressive," Russ said with a chuckle. "You did in a few hours what Mark's been trying to figure out all his life."

"I was trained to find ways into places deemed impossible to reach," she said sweetly.

"Trained by who?" Russ asked.

"Mossad," she replied. Russ shook his head in confusion.

"Israeli intelligence agency," Berman replied. "Equivalent to the CIA." Russ whistled in appreciation.

"You've never been on the Dunning property?" Gibbs asked interrupting before they could get too far off track.

Mark shook his head. "Never. Growing up, Jack said we weren't allowed on their property because there are old trap lines all throughout their property. Apparently, his grandfather set them and then forgot where they were. Jack's dad didn't want us stepping on an old bear trap. Even if they're old and rusty, they'll still take your foot off."

She frowned. It was bad enough that her friends had to avoid men trying to kill them but now they potentially had to deal with old bear traps?

"Seems more likely that his grandfather booby-trapped the property to keep out Prohibition Agents," Gibbs said. "And forgot where they were."

"If you believe the popular rumors," Russ agreed.

"We should give Jack and Will some time to get to their search grid before we head for the entrance to Jack's property," Berman said.

Gibbs shook his head. "We want to start closer to town," Gibbs replied.

"After five days, we believe that Tim and Tony are trying to make their way back to town," she said to answer the Sheriff's unspoken question.

"Makes sense," Russ said.

The Sheriff looked as if he was going to argue but then stopped himself. "It makes as much of any of this does," Berman said. "Where's the entrance?"

She walked over to the car where Russ had spread their map marked with the search grids across the hood. They had used it to assign quadrants to the searchers this morning.

She pointed to a pink line across the green topographical map. With these types of topographical maps, any updates from the original mapping was shown in pink. This line indicated a high voltage transmission line.

"This transmission line crosses the Dunning property before it turns and skirts Hastings," she said.

"Right," Mark said. "Those transmission lines were built fifty years ago. Those lines are kept free of trees so it's a natural trail. But you still can't get from Hastings to the transmission lines."

"There is a narrow trail here," she said as she pointed to a narrow saddle in the contours.

"It was probably a construction access road," Gibbs said. "It would be overgrown by now, making it harder to see."

"The entrance is not far from Richard Dunning's home," she said.

"Making it easy for them to get on and off the property," Russ said.

"Which means, we should have a trail to follow," Gibbs said.

Mark looked at Gibbs in confusion.

"Jack Dunning told us he took the trails from his brother's home to his home yesterday. We did not get enough snow to conceal a snowmobile trail," she said.

"Oh," Mark said bashfully. "You're right, of course. We'll start there."

She met Gibbs gaze and nodded. She folded the map and tucked it into her coat pocket.

Gibbs climbed onto the snowmobile with Sheriff Berman and she joined the Deputy.

They drove through the town and after a little searching, they found a snowmobile track leading into the woods. They stopped at the edge of the woods and looked down.

"Looks like more than one snowmobile has been coming through here," Gibbs said.

"Making multiple trips," she added.

Berman looked at Russ. "Jack and William were searching most of yesterday right?"

"Yeah," Russ replied. "I had them searching near the old Barnes property. They called in regularly. Maybe Rick took a trip out to their cabin to check their property?"

"There are more than a few tracks here," Berman said. "Either there was more than one snowmobile, or someone was coming and going a lot."

"Or both," Gibbs said softly.

The Sheriff stared at Gibbs, trying to read his expression. But she knew from experience that Mark was not going to have any luck. It was amusing to watch him try, however.

"You know what's going on, Agent Gibbs?" Mark demanded. When Gibbs didn't reveal anything. "Is Rick involved in your agent's disappearance?"

"We have reason to believe that my agents were dumped on the Dunning property," Gibbs replied withholding some information from the Sheriff.

They had briefly discussed it last night and decided that they trusted the Sheriff… mostly. They had agreed to be cautious with what they told him and his Deputy until they were sure he wasn't involved.

"Kara Dunning saw Agent McGee and Agent DiNozzo at her father's cabin the day they went missing," she said to Berman's surprise. "She provided them with supplies and directions back to town."

"When did you find this out?" Berman asked.

"Last night," Gibbs replied. "Kara came to the inn after you left."

"Why didn't she say anything when you saw her at the Farmhouse?" Russ asked.

"Fear can keep good people silent," she replied meaningfully.

"And you still think this has to do with drugs?" Berman asked. They nodded.

"Are the Dunnings involved with drugs?" Russ asked.

"We do not have evidence to support that," she said diplomatically. Gibbs glanced at her. Strictly speaking, that was true. Right now, they only had Kara's word.

"Meth?" Berman asked skeptically. "I went to school with Jack and William. Let's just say that neither of them were great students, Agent David. They'd be more likely to blow themselves up than successfully cook meth."

"What of Richard Dunning?" she asked.

Mark and Russ looked at each other and their expressions told her that he was a possibility.

"Rick might look like a hillbilly," Russ said reluctantly. "But he's smart. He went to college for a year but decided it wasn't for him. He came back to Hastings and went to work for the logging company. He maintains all their equipment."

"What did he study?" she asked.

Mark hesitated before he said, "Chemistry." The Sheriff closed his eyes. "Ah, hell."

"Hate to break the bubble here," Russ said. "All we have are a bunch of puzzle pieces that only kinda fit together."

"We have a little more than that," Gibbs said without elaborating. "But what we don't have are my agents."

"Point taken, Agent Gibbs," Berman said. "If Kara saw your agents at the cabin, we ought to focus our search around there to start. Do you know where that is?"

"Satellite photos show it to be southwest of here," she replied.

"We'll follow the tracks for now," Berman said. "But as soon as we can, we find a way to get off the main trail. Russ, you keep on my six. I don't want anyone to know there's two of us or that we're on the property. If someone tried to kill two Feds, they're not going to hesitate to try to kill two more."

Russ nodded and followed the Sheriff as they rode into the woods. The trail was relatively flat and straight for the most part, which told her that Gibbs was right. This had probably been an access road to the power lines during construction. But Mother Nature and time had done their work. It was overgrown, and the trail occasionally would bend to get around a thick group of shrubs or a tree.

When they reached the power lines, they traveled for a short distance before taking a trail into the woods towards the southwest. She glanced along the power lines and saw several snowmobile tracks running parallel to the towers.

They drove until they found a stand of pine trees. Berman motioned to Gibbs and said a few words. Gibbs nodded and got off the machine. He pulled back a few branches, allowing Mark and Russ to drive into the copse of pine trees. The area within the pine trees was sheltered and there was significantly less snow here.

Once they were within a screen of trees, Sheriff Berman stopped and cut the engine of his snowmobile.

"Is something wrong?" she asked as Gibbs joined them.

"I have some concerns, Agent David," Berman said. "We're not exactly moving silently on our snowmobiles. If your agents are taking the likeliest path back to town, then I'll bet good money that someone is watching the trails to ambush them. I'd like to know if there are any accomplices who could be watching for your agents? Are _we_ walking into an ambush?"

She glanced at Gibbs.

"We don't know the answer to that, Sheriff," Gibbs replied. "We haven't identified the dealer who sold to Corporal Dunning's squad mates. Once we do, we can connect him back to William Dunning."

Mark jolted. "Will drives a truck," Berman said. "He was in Washington the night Brian was killed."

"You're sure of that?" Russ asked.

"Yeah," Berman replied. "I called him on his cell. I wanted him to take a look at my other snowmobile. It's been acting up and with this storm coming in, I wanted to be prepared in case we needed to check on outlying residents."

"It's still circumstantial," Russ said.

"Yeah," Berman said. "But when you add it all up, suddenly there's an avalanche of coincidences and you can't tell me that you aren't thinking that they aren't the source of the drugs those DEA agents were looking for six months ago?" Russ frowned. "Believe me, I don't like it any more than you. They're my friends."

"Is there anyone that the Dunnings spend time with that could be their partner?" she asked.

"They have a few acquaintances but Jack, Will and Rick, they're only really close with my family and Elsie's," Berman said. "And there's no way that Elsie and her husband are involved with making drugs."

"What about Michael Harper?" she asked.

"No," Berman said firmly. "He's definitely not involved." Berman hesitated until Gibbs stared at him. Berman wilted under Gibbs' gaze. "I'm pretty sure that Alice and Michael had an affair right after Jack and Alice got married. Even if they didn't, Jack was convinced that they did. He and Michael haven't spoken since."

"As interesting as this is," she said. "Have we forgotten why we are standing in the woods in the middle of winter?"

They looked around.

"Your agents," Berman said. They nodded. "My concerns still stand. We aren't exactly moving silently while on these machines. If the Dunnings attacked your agents, they're going to do what they can to stop them from getting back to town. Which means they'll be hunting them."

"But we can't cover ground like we can on the snowmobiles," Russ countered. "Even with them, going is slow through all this fresh snow."

"If it is difficult on snowmobiles, how quickly could two people move on foot?" she asked.

Berman looked to Russ.

"Without snowshoes, it would be hard going," Russ said. "Even with snowshoes, with this kind of terrain and fresh powder, they'd be making only about a half mile to a mile per hour."

She pulled the map from her coat and found the location where the Dunning cabin was. She measured the distance between the cabin and the power lines.

"Assuming that Tim and Tony found shelter through the storm, even if they were moving that slow, they should have reached the power lines by the end of yesterday," she said. "I think we would be best served by doing what Tim and Tony are doing."

"Search on foot," Gibbs said.

"I figured you were going to say that," Berman said as he got off the snowmobile. She watched as he opened a chest at the back of the machine. Berman pulled out two pairs of snowshoes.

"You have snowshoes as well?" she asked the Deputy.

"Yeah," Russ said. "These are all mine. Me and my wife like to snowshoe in the winter. We just got new shoes for Christmas."

"Good timing," she said.

"The snowmobiles will be hidden here," Mark said.

As they started to put on their snowshoes, Gibbs' satellite phone rang. The harsh noise, even hushed by the pine trees, was discordant, loud and made her jump.

"Gibbs," he said as he answered. "He did. Put out a BOLO." Gibbs stopped. "Metro has him? Well then get down there and interview…" Gibbs stopped again. "You did. He did."

"I hate these one-sided conversations," Russ said causing her to jolt. She had been so focused on Gibbs that she had forgotten about the Deputy.

"Good job Dorneget," Gibbs said as he hung up. "Dorneget was at the hospital when PFC King woke up. He got the name of the dealer that sold him the meth."

"Agent Dorneget," she said for the Deputy's benefit.

"Metro had picked him up on a dealing charge," Gibbs continued. "Dorneget interviewed him and he turned on his supplier. Picked William Dunning out of a photo lineup."

Berman closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Dealer also said that Corporal Dunning bought most of his stash after Corporal Dunning connected the drugs to his uncle," Gibbs continued. "When the dealer told William, William said he'd deal with it."

"Deal with it?" Berman asked.

"The dealer said he also sold a gun to William Dunning," Gibbs said. "Same make and model as the one we found in Corporal Dunning's apartment. Ballistics confirmed it was the weapon used to kill Corporal Dunning."

"Corporal Dunning was shot, and it was made to look like a suicide," she said. "But our medical examiner determined that with the angle of entry for the bullet, it was impossible to be a suicide."

"You're telling me that William killed his nephew," Mark said.

"It would seem so," she said.

Berman cursed under his breath.

Suddenly they heard several snowmobiles racing towards them.

Drawing her weapon, she hurried to edge of the pine trees and pulled back a branch just enough to see. She was aware that Gibbs, Berman and Russ had joined her.

Two snowmobiles were just beyond the pine trees. One of the riders was wearing a brown jacket with orange blazes on his shoulders.

"Rick must have been hearing things," William shouted over the engine noise. "No one else knows how to get onto the property."

"They're government agents," Jack retorted. "Who knows what spy satellite they have pointed at this town. They could probably tell that your shoe is untied." She watched as William looked down. "I was exaggerating you idiot," Jack said.

"We need to find those Feds," William said. "I heard that Eddie got picked up by the cops. If those Feds get back to town and tell their friends what we did to them, we're in for it."

"If Eddie turns on you, we're in for it," Jack said.

"You're kidding, right?" William asked. "You might have pulled the trigger, but I bought that gun. They won't pin Brian's murder on you, they'll pin it on me! Add to that kidnapping Federal Agents?"

"Then we better make sure they don't get back. Can't prove kidnapping if no one finds their bodies," Jack said. "Keep your eyes peeled for any kind of lean-tos. They had to have taken shelter."

"What about Rick?" William asked.

"He's finishing up dismantling the lab and hiding the evidence," Jack said. "The search is up to us. Best case would be that we find those feds frozen under two feet of snow, but we shoot 'em if we have to."

After Jack and William had gone, they looked at each other.

"That's not good," Russ said nervously.

"No," she said as she stood. "Now we must search these woods for Tim and Tony while avoiding Jack and William."

"I say we go back to the station," Mark said. "I have enough to arrest Jack and William. We can take them down when they return to the Farmhouse tonight."

"I can't do that," Gibbs said. "I'm not coming out of these woods without my people."

"Leave us one machine and two sets of snowshoes," she said. "We will continue the search on our own."

Mark frowned and shook his head. "No, I can't do that." Russ looked at Mark. Russ looked nervous. "At least this way, we'll outnumber the Dunnings."

Gibbs nodded in appreciation.

"We search from the stream to the exit back to Hastings," Gibbs said. "Same as Jack and William. We look for lean-tos or any sign that Tim and Tony sheltered for the night."

"Look on the bright side," she said. Mark looked at her in confusion. "At least they are dressed in hunting orange colors."

"There's that," Mark muttered.

They spent the day searching the woods, occasionally taking cover as they heard the whine of snowmobile engines. But whether it was a trick of the snow, they never saw Jack or William Dunning again.

They did, however, see plenty of evidence of their passing. There were snowmobile tracks all over the mountainside and footpaths through the trees as the Dunning's inspected every downed tree, clumps of brush and even a few caves for Tim and Tony. The multitudes of tracks made it even harder for them to determine if they had found evidence of their partners or if they were just seeing more of the Dunnings' tracks.

Near the end of the day, they crossed a trail of footprints near the stream valley leading from the general direction of the Dunning cabin towards the transmission lines but there was no way to know who had made the tracks.

They followed the trail back to the transmission lines but then lost them. A large herd of deer had passed through, obscuring the tracks. Gibbs had surmised that the tracks probably led back to the snowmobile trail.

She looked around the woods in exasperation. There was only four of them and Jack Dunning owned over a hundred acres of ground. And there was no telling which way Tim and Tony went after stopping at the cabin. Just because Kara gave them directions back to town, it did not mean that they followed her advice.

In fact, if she were them, she _would not_ follow her advice. How could they have trusted the daughter of the man who tried to kill them?

As the woods grew darker, Berman looked at Gibbs. "We're not equipped to spend the night searching for your people, Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs frowned. "You want me to leave them out here?"

"For now," Mark said. "I know you want to find your people, but I don't think you want to get yourself or your agent killed either. We can go back to the Farmhouse. We can take the Dunnings into custody and get what information they have on your missing agents. Then we can search their property without having to be afraid of being shot."

She looked at Gibbs. She wanted nothing more than to continue searching for her friends, but it was already growing dark and with the dense forest, the moonlight was not enough to see by, which would make it impossible to see footprints. And darkness made the landscape all the more treacherous for them. They would risk injury to themselves if they tried to search in the dark.

"It is a good plan," she said.

Gibbs sighed and nodded.

It took them several hours to retrace their steps back to the stand of pine trees and just as they had taken cover, they heard a pair of snowmobiles racing past, heading towards the cabin.

"I'll bet that was Jack and William heading Jack's house, so they could appear to be returning from their search grid," Russ said. Mark nodded.

"So, we only need to worry about Rick Dunning," she said.

"Let's go," Mark said. "I've got a bad feeling about this and it's getting dark."

They removed the snowshoes and left the Dunning property, following the same trail out as they had taken in. Thankfully the snowmobiles had headlights to help them see the trail and they managed to find their way back to town with little trouble.

"Hold off on taking the Dunnings into custody," Gibbs said as they pulled up to the Farmhouse.

"Why?" Berman asked.

"Sometimes you can get more information from someone when they don't realize they're being interrogated," Gibbs said. Berman looked skeptical, but he nodded, deferring to Gibbs. Suddenly Jack and William Dunning rode up on their snowmobiles.

"Agent Gibbs," Jack said as he cut the engine. Gibbs nodded stiffly. "Any luck?"

"No," Gibbs replied.

She eyed Sheriff Berman and Deputy Cunningham. When neither moved to confront the Dunnings, she relaxed slightly.

"Been thinking of what Elsie said before though," Gibbs said. "She said you and your brothers knew these woods better than anyone."

"That's the truth," Jack said with a nod. "What of it?"

"I was hoping to pick your brain," Gibbs said. "See if you can't help us narrow our search area. Maybe tonight after dinner?"

"It would be a big help, Jack," Berman said. "I know a lot, but I know you know more than me."

Jack looked at them, then nodded.

"I'll come by the Farmhouse after dinner," Jack said.

Suddenly Gibbs satellite phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and answered, "Gibbs." She watched him, but Gibbs rarely telecast his emotions and thoughts. "Any word?" Ziva frowned. She would guess that it was Abby.

She understood how upset Abby was. Abby was very close to both Tony and McGee. She and Tony had been friends for over ten years and she and Tim had dated for a time before he was transferred to the Navy Yard and perhaps for a time afterwards.

And Abby was a naturally emotional woman. She loved freely and deeply and thus was also hurt just as deeply when something bad happened to those she loved. That was why she had forced her emotions deeper inside her. It did not mean she did not feel pain. On the contrary, she felt the pain of loss just as sharply as Abby. But she did not allow it to affect her as outwardly as it did Abby.

If something happened to Tony and Tim, she did not know how she would react. They were true friends and they had allowed her to grow beyond what she had become as a Mossad agent. They had helped her become more than just a soldier and she loved them dearly for it. She would prefer not to think about that yet.

She returned to casually examining the Dunnings. Jack and William weren't tense which told her that they were comfortable enough in their belief that their secret was still safe. She didn't see any side arms, but they had plenty of pockets in their coat and snow pants that could conceal a handgun. And they did have hunting rifles on their snowmobiles.

She frowned as she wondered if one of those rifles could be responsible for her friends' death.

"What's the status of Agent MacGregor?" Gibbs asked catching her attention.

She did not know any agents by the name of MacGregor except… But it could not be. Or could it?

"Ok. Stay where you are Agent DeLuca," Gibbs said as he glanced at her.

That look told her everything she needed to know. Gibbs was talking to Tony but using McGee's name for him. With the Dunning standing nearby, it was an easy way to alert her that he was talking to their partners without alerting the Dunnings.

"Ziva and I will pick you up. Next time, remember to use chains when you're driving in the mountains." He listened for a minute then said, "Got it." He hung up and looked at her. But his expression betrayed nothing.

Gibbs turned to Sheriff Berman. "Two other agents coming to help with the search, MacGregor and DeLuca, put their car into a ditch on their way up here. We need to go pick them up."

"The nearest tow truck is in Midland, the next town over. I could radio for him," Berman said.

"Thanks," Gibbs replied stopping Berman. "The tow truck is already there."

"So why do they need you?" Berman asked.

"Because the car was damaged," Gibbs said.

She mentally smiled. Rule number seven. Always be specific when you lie.

Gibbs looked at his watch. "We should be back by eight," Gibbs said.

Jack nodded. "We'll come back then, Agent Gibbs," Jack said.


	19. Cold Justice

_A/N: So when I started to post this story, I said that this story was already complete... That was except for the nearly 18,000 additional words that I added along the way. Most of the additions came to the Gibbs/Ziva side of the story and while I considered this story complete before I started the post, I feel that it is a more fleshed out tale now. Thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing!_

* * *

They watched as Jack and William got on their snowmobiles and left for Rick's home. Once they were gone, he looked at Ziva. She was grinning from ear to ear.

"Ok," Berman said as he realized that something was going on. "What was that call and why is she smiling like that?"

"She's making me nervous," Russ muttered.

"DiNozzo and McGee are in the next town," he replied as he motioned for Ziva to hand him the map. He opened it and tracked the road to the nearest town to the west. "Midland, apparently."

"You were talking to your agents?" Berman asked. "And not Agents MacGregor and DeLuca?"

"I was talking to them too," he said. He caught Ziva's eye and saw her smile at their inside joke.

Mark frowned.

"Are they fans of Thom Gemcity's books?" Russ asked. He shrugged lightly. "The first one was good but the sequel seemed half-hearted."

He snorted. If only they knew.

"Something like that," he replied. "We'll pick them up. Just make sure that the Dunnings don't try to make a run for it."

"You have my word on that, Agent Gibbs," Berman said. Russ hastily nodded in agreement. "Friends or not, we've seen the damage that drugs can do to people. I won't let them ruin people's lives any longer."

"Good," he said. "We'll be back well before eight."

He caught Ziva's eye and then made his way to their car. They got inside, and he started to drive.

"Tony said that they were attacked by Jack and Rick Dunning after they interviewed them. He and McGee holed up in a cave during the storm and hiked out of the mountains over the last two days," he said.

"You are kidding?" Ziva asked as she examined the map. "They hiked to Midland?" Gibbs nodded. "That is over sixteen miles!"

"I'm sure they had their reasons," Gibbs replied. "They'll tell us when we see them."

After two days, the roads had been plowed, salted and cleared which made their trip to Midland quick and easy. He pulled over near the pizza parlor and they hurried inside to find Tim and Tony lounging in their chairs, the remnants of a large pizza sitting between them. Their boots were sitting on the hearth, a knapsack sat just below, and four pine wreaths were beside the pack.

Tim and Tony had their feet up on the hearth and they appeared to be napping.

"You could have saved us a slice," Ziva said as she looked at the empty tray.

Tony jolted and turned. He grinned and smacked Tim on the arm to wake him. When Tim glared at Tony, Tony pointed in their direction. Tim turned around and smiled broadly.

"You two are a sight for sore eyes," Tony said as he stood. Tim stood and faced their partners.

"You two are a sore sight," he said as he looked them over.

Both were dirty and had several days' worth of growth on their faces, which was strange since he had never seen either of his agents with facial hair. It made Tony look more rugged and Tim looked much older. But even so, they had never looked better to his eyes, despite their rough appearance.

"Yeah well, our accommodations lacked all the basic amenities," Tony replied with a grin. "That's the last time I'd like to stay in the no star Cave Hotel."

"And the Pine and Bedrock Inn," Tim added as he rubbed his fingers over the unfamiliar stubble.

"Yeah, that one too," Tony agreed with a large and childish grin.

"We have been worried about you," Ziva said.

He took a closer look at them. Aside from the beard, Tim had most of his weight on his right leg. That told him that Tim had been injured. Tony appeared to be unharmed.

"We were worried about us too," Tim replied. "Believe me; it's good to see you Ziva. And you too Boss," he added as an afterthought.

Suddenly overcome with emotion, Ziva pulled Tim into a hug and then moved to hug Tony. Even from this distance he could tell that Tim was pungent and if possible, Tony smelled worse. "Oh, you smell," Ziva said wrinkling her nose.

"Didn't you hear what I said about the no star accommodations?" Tony asked. "Our cave didn't have bathing facilities and it's hard work chopping up frozen wood."

Suddenly smiling broadly, he wrapped his arms around their necks before slapping them both on the back. Tim and Tony grunted at his exuberance and after sharing a puzzled expression, they grinned. For him, his actions would be considered downright affectionate compared to his usual stoic demeanor.

But he hadn't been this relieved since he saw Tim and Tony with Ziva in that terrorist camp in Somalia. He also hadn't come this close to losing them since Somalia. Not even when the Navy Yard had been bombed.

Greetings over, he motioned to the table and they all took their seats. "You two ok?" he asked as he sat down. He waved off the waitress, who turned around with a frown.

"Mostly," Tony replied. "Tim's got a gash on his leg, but I don't think it'll need stitches. Definitely needs to be cleaned up and bandaged though."

He looked questioningly at Tim. "We followed the creek bed out of the mountains. I fell about fifteen feet…"

"You said it was ten," Tony interrupted.

"I said it was ten or fifteen feet," Tim retorted.

He glared at Tim. He didn't have the patience to deal with their brotherly bickering. He wanted to get their story and get back to Hastings, so they could arrest the Dunnings.

"I fell down a waterfall that was hidden by a snowdrift," Tim continued. "I cut my leg on some ice. It took almost forty-five minutes for Tony to finally pull me all the way out and Tony had to do most of the work at the end. It was all I could do to hold on to that branch."

"You are lucky you did not develop hypothermia!" she said astounded.

"Well that's why we didn't get back yesterday," Tony said. "We had to take shelter and build another fire for McChatter Teeth." Tim frowned at the nickname but didn't say anything. "At least it was a heck of a lot easier to build a fire that second time."

"I am impressed that you managed it in the first place," Ziva said. "Starting a fire with wet and frozen wood could not have been easy."

"No," Tim conceded. "But between my time camping as a WEBELOS and Tony building campfires at Camp Poke-a-quatic, we managed it."

"Because we have 'pah,'" Tony said with a grin. Tim smiled at Tony's joke but Ziva shook her head in confusion.

He allowed a ghost of a smile to play across his lips. Tony had tried to explain it to him, but he never fully understood what Tony had meant. But he did know that Tim and Tony had an intangible chemistry that allowed them to work _very_ well together. If that was 'pah,' then his boys had it in spades.

"What is 'pah?'" she asked. But Tim and Tony only grinned at each other. Not getting an answer, Ziva pressed on. "So, other than McGee's leg…"

"We're ok Ziva," Tony replied cutting her off. "Eager for a real bed and a hot shower though."

"No frostbite or anything, if that's what you were wondering," Tim added.

He nodded. "What the hell happened then?" Gibbs asked.

They proceeded to tell Gibbs how they had been jumped.

"Never heard them coming, Boss," Tony said ruefully rubbing the back of his head. "Had no reason to expect it either. They didn't tell us anything that would have made us suspect them."

"They got us both at the same time," Tim added. "One minute I was walking to the car, next thing I know Tony is standing over me and we were in the middle of the woods in a blizzard."

They listened intently as Tim and Tony explained how they had found the cabin and talked Kara into helping them. Tony was quick to praise Tim for charming the girl and that without her help, they would be dead, without question.

"We asked Kara to contact you, but I guess she didn't," Tony said.

"No," Gibbs replied. "She did." Tony looked at them surprised. "But not until last night. Her father and uncles prevented her from contacting us because they knew she saw you two."

"I know you don't believe in coincidences Boss, but we had one hell of a coincidence," Tony said. He looked at Tony expectantly. "We overheard the Dunning trio looking for us the day after the accident. They were searching for us and stopped outside of our shelter."

"They talked about jumping us," Tim added.

"And their hidden meth lab," Tony said. Tony looked at Tim and he could see that the boys were preparing to drop some big news. "And they said they killed Brian Dunning."

"I know," he replied causing them to deflate.

"You know?" Tim asked incredulously.

"Of course, he knows," Tony added sourly. "He's Gibbs!"

"We overheard them say as much today," Ziva explained.

"You overheard them too?" Tim asked.

"This afternoon. We were hidden in a stand of pine trees," Ziva said. "William Dunning said he purchased the gun from his dealer, but Jack Dunning shot his son."

"Jack doesn't think Corporal Dunning is his son," Tim countered. He stared at Tim. It didn't matter if Brian was Jack's son or not. "Not that it matters," Tim said hastily. "He still shot a Marine." He nodded sharply in approval. "I can't believe that they happened to confess their crimes while Federal Agents just happened to be nearby. Twice!"

Tony snorted. "Dumb criminals," Tony said. "NCIS edition."

"I don't know that they're that dumb, Tony," Tim said. "Who would expect that the woods would have ears?" Tim asked.

"How could the woods have ears?" Ziva asked in confusion.

"He means that we overheard them talking," Tony said. "Twice. Which is a hell of a coincidence."

"They talked because they didn't think anyone would be around to hear," Tim explained.

Ziva frowned and opened her mouth to ask for clarification but again, he didn't have the patience for the distraction.

"You hiked along the stream?" he asked before she could say anything. Tim and Tony nodded.

"We decided to go that way early on because, we weren't sure we could trust Kara," Tony said. "Then we decided it was the best way to avoid the searching Dunnings."

"That's at least sixteen miles," Ziva said.

"In deep snow," Tim added. "At least three and a half feet worth. It was a lot easier after we built the snowshoes." He looked at their gear and realized that the wreaths were improvised snowshoes.

"Too bad you didn't think of that while we were in the cave, McGee," Tony said sourly. "If would have given us something to do and we could have avoided…" Tony cut himself off.

"Avoided what?" Ziva asked as she looked between Tim and Tony.

"Another night spent in the woods," Tim replied. He looked at them and could tell that they were withholding something. He wasn't sure what. But whatever it was, they were both repressing a small smile at some unknown joke between them.

"You can confirm it was the Dunnings that you overheard?" he asked. "Not just from their voices?"

"Yeah," Tony said. "We saw them through our vent before we blocked them with my coat." Tim nodded. "Rick Dunning's ridiculous beard. And Jack's hunting jacket with the orange shoulders. William was there too."

"Corporal Dunning must have had a reason to believe that they supplied the drugs that PFC Gonzales and King overdosed on," Tim said.

"But they overdosed after Dunning was killed," Tony pointed out. "Dunning couldn't have known that William sold the drugs to his squad mates."

"Corporal Dunning saw his uncle the night he was killed. I found them arguing on the footage we brought back from the bar," Ziva said. "William Dunning was meeting with one of his drug dealers in the bar. Corporal Dunning argued with his uncle hours before he was killed."

"The dealer?" Tony asked.

"PFC King identified him, and Metro already had him on a dealing charge," he said. "Dorneget got him to pick William Dunning out of a photo lineup."

"Now that we have found Tim and Tony," she said.

"Uh we found you," Tony interjected but she ignored him.

"We have everything we need to arrest the Dunnings," Ziva finished. "Can we do that now?"

"We'd really like that, boss," Tony said. "I'd _really_ like to express my displeasure about being dumped in the woods in a blizzard."

"I'm sure," he replied with amusement.

"It is a good thing they did not kill you," Ziva said.

"Yeah well, it takes a little more than three hillbillies to kill me and McGee," Tony replied as he put a hand on Tim's shoulder. Tim grinned and nodded.

"Just a little?" she asked mischievously. He watched in amusement as their smiles disappeared.

"We'll dump you in the woods in the middle of blizzard without so much as a pocket knife and see how you do, Ziva," Tony retorted, annoyed. "I think we did pretty good for ourselves, all things considered."

"Yeah," he replied. "You did good. Both of you." Tony grinned at Tim then smirked at Ziva. "So how about we go get the bastards that tried to kill you?"

"Sounds great to me," Tim replied standing up. "But can we take a shower first, Boss?"

He glanced at his watch.

"You should have time," he replied. "Don't have any clothes for you to change into though."

Tim and Tony looked down at themselves.

"I'll shower with them on," Tony said.

Snorting, he stood up as Tim and Tony put their boots on. When they finished, Tony picked up the check and handed it to Tim.

"Pay the woman, Probie," Tony said.

"Me?" Tim asked. "You still owe me for lunch from last week."

"I paid you back," Tony countered.

"Hey," he said sharply. "You going to bicker or are we going to arrest the dirtbags that almost killed you?"

"Right," Tony said. "Halves?"

Tim nodded, and they left money for their meal along with a healthy tip.

Ziva had picked up their bag and was examining one of the makeshift snowshoes.

"This is very clever," she said.

"Joint effort," Tony said as he supported Tim. Evidently his leg had stiffened while they were sitting.

"Let's move," he said.

They returned to Hastings, but he slowed as he approached the Farmhouse. The Sheriff's jeep was in the parking lot and as they approached, Berman got out of the car.

"What's wrong?" Tony asked.

"Sheriff Mark Berman," Ziva explained. "He appears to be waiting for us."

"And that's bad?" Tim asked.

"We'll see," he said as he pulled into the parking lot. "Stay here," he said as he looked in the mirror at Tim and Tony.

They stepped outside and looked at Sheriff Berman expectantly.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"No," Berman said. "We'll get your agents inside and I'll explain."

Nodding, he motioned for Tim and Tony to join them. They followed Berman to a back set of stairs and hurried inside. They stepped inside and he immediately felt claustrophobic in the small space.

Fortunately, Berman hurried up the stairs to the second floor where they had more room.

"Agents DiNozzo and McGee," Berman said. "Good to see you again."

They nodded.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"We took a few liberties," Berman said. "I sent Russ back to your car to pick up your overnight bags. I figured after five days in the same clothes, you'd want something clean."

"You figured right," Tony said, relaxing slightly.

"What else?" he asked.

"I thought it best to get Kara out of her uncle's home," Berman said. "I called up Jack and asked if she could watch my kids for the evening. I told him that my wife had an emergency with her parents and needed someone to keep an eye on them while I was here with you planning our search."

"You have young children?" Ziva asked.

"Two boys, nine and twelve," he said. "They're good kids. Usually they're best friends but if left alone, they might just kill each other. You know how boys are."

He glanced at Tim and Tony.

"Yeah, I do," he replied as Tim and Tony pulled a face at him. "Where is Kara?"

"Room number four," Mark said. "Their bags are in room number three."

"Get yourselves cleaned up but stay up here. I don't want to risk you being seen by someone and tipping off the Dunnings," he said. Tony and McGee nodded.

"One shower is at the end of the hall, the second is upstairs," Ziva said.

Tim and Tony looked at him. He nodded, and they bolted for the room with their things. Tim emerged first and made for the shower at the end of the hall. Tony was about to complain but Tony saw his expression and silently turned to head upstairs.

"Do you think the Dunnings suspect anything?" he asked.

"No," Mark said. "But all the same, I sent Russ to keep an eye on them to make sure they don't try to make a break for it and I called the State Police. They've got the roads out of Hastings under surveillance."

"Good," he said pleased that Berman had taken steps to make sure that the Dunnings wouldn't be able to flee.

Berman sighed.

"Ziva, check in with Kara," he said. "Make sure she's all right before you come downstairs."

Ziva nodded and left. There was a moment between Ziva knocking and Kara opening the door. Kara looked hesitant but she let Ziva in. Once Ziva was gone, he looked at Berman.

"I understand how hard this is for you," he said.

"I'm not sure you do," Berman said. "But I appreciate your empathy, Agent Gibbs." He nodded. "Jack, Will, Mike and I, we were friends since I can remember having friends. Jack and Mike's falling out was hard enough. Part of me wants to tell them to run for the hills but the other part of me is so angry that I can't wait to shut the jail cell on their noses."

"Which part is winning?" he asked.

Berman snorted. "It really isn't as close a race as I made it sound," Berman said. "This isn't about what I want. I'm the Sheriff and I took an oath to protect the people of Hastings and the law is blind."

"Doesn't make it easy though," he said.

"No," Berman replied. "But it also isn't my fault. Jack, Will and Rick brought this on themselves."

"Yeah," he said. "They did." He looked at Berman. "Can I buy you a coffee?" he asked.

Berman smiled wanly. "I'd prefer something stronger, to be honest," Berman replied. He chuckled. "But that'll have to wait. I'm still on duty."

They made their way downstairs and took a seat at one of the tables. It was late enough that most of the dinner rush was over. Even so, about half the tables were filled with men who were enjoying their coffee and talking.

He had barely sat down before Elsie set down a pair of coffee mugs and filled them.

"Agent Gibbs," she said pleasantly. "I was so busy, I didn't see you come back. Where's your partner?"

"Upstairs," he said. "She'll be along."

"Dinner tonight is chicken and dumpling stew," Elsie said. "Can I get you two a bowl?"

Realizing he hadn't eaten since a breakfast, he nodded. Berman reluctantly nodded as well. When Elsie returned, she looked at the Sheriff with concern.

"Are you all right, Mark?" Elsie asked. "You look terrible."

"I'm fine," Berman replied. "Just having a rough day."

"Well, I'm sure eating something will help," Elsie said.

Berman nodded but didn't seem to be convinced.

He was barely halfway through his dinner when Ziva joined them. She accepted a bowl of stew and a cup of tea from Elsie and once the woman was gone, Ziva said, "Kara wished to be alone. She is very upset."

"Who can blame her?" Berman asked.

"But she is determined to do the right thing," Ziva said as she ate.

"I broke the news to her," Berman said as he pushed away his half-eaten bowl of stew. "I didn't want her to be ambushed with the news."

"That is probably for the best," Ziva said.

They fell silent and focused on eating. When they finished, Elsie took their bowls away and frowned as she saw Mark's half-finished meal. She returned a moment later with a dish of apple crisp for each of them.

"I'm sorry you haven't found your agents yet," Elsie said as she sat down with them. "I know this won't help you find them, but my grandmother always made this apple crisp for me when I was upset. For some reason, I thought to make it today."

"Thanks, Elsie," Berman said as he took the bowl of apple crisp. "Your Nana made the best apple crisp and you do her justice with yours."

"That's sweet of you to say that, Mark," Elsie said as she blushed slightly. He took a bite and nodded appreciatively. "And if you want to talk, I'm here. You know that."

"I do," Mark said. "Give it a few hours though."

Elsie looked at them in confusion, but the Deputy's arrival kept her from asking.

"Can I get you something, Russ?" Elsie asked.

"Just coffee," Russ replied. Elsie nodded hurried to fetch him a mug. "The temperature is dropping," Russ said as he removed his coat and hung it on a peg. "Weather report is calling for more snow," he said as he sat down.

Elsie frowned as she filled Russ' mug and topped of their mugs.

"Not a fan?" he asked as he looked up at her.

"No," Elsie replied. "I like snow well enough, Agent Gibbs. Just not so much all at once. It certainly doesn't make it easier to search for your people."

"That won't be a problem any longer," he said cryptically.

She looked at him then Berman.

"Is something going on, Mark?" Elsie asked. But Mark looked to Russ.

"They're on their way," Russ said. Russ glanced at Elsie. "I have folks making sure they don't take a detour."

"What are you talking about?" Elsie asked.

"You'll see soon enough," Russ replied.

Elsie frowned but just then the front door opened to admit Jack, William and Rick Dunning. They removed their coats and kicked the snow from their boots before joining them at the long table.

He glanced at Ziva.

Abandoning her coffee, she hurried upstairs.

"Agent Gibbs," Jack said as he sat down at their table. "Did you get your people?" He looked at him wondering what he meant. "Agents MacGregor and DeLuca?"

"Yeah," he replied. "I found them."

"You don't need my help getting their car out do you? I have a winch on my truck," Jack said jabbing his thumb in the direction of the street. "Albert might have a tow truck but he ain't the greatest at maneuvering cars out of ditches."

"No, no help," he replied. He turned around and looked at the stairs. Suddenly Tim and Tony appeared. They were clean shaven and wearing clean clothes from their overnight bags. And after a hot shower, they looked significantly better.

"Hi!" Tony said with a grin.

He watched as William paled.

"Aren't those the agents you've been looking for?" Elsie asked in shock. "Where have you two been? How'd you get into the Farmhouse?"

"Brought them in the back," Mark said as he and Russ stood up. Russ moved towards the door and both men subtly put their hands near their weapons.

"Ask Jack and Rick where they were," he said. "They're the ones responsible for them going missing in the first place."

"What's he talking about Jack?" Elsie asked.

"Tell him Jack," Tony said as he looked at the man. "Tell him how you and your brother Rick jumped us after we interviewed you."

Jack was speechless.

"Or how you dumped us in the woods to die," Tim added.

"Why would we do that?" Rick asked weakly.

"Because you killed Corporal Dunning," Tony replied.

"And you didn't want us to figure that out," Tim finished.

Rick laughed. "You're kidding right? Why would we kill Brian?"

"He saw your brother William selling drugs to his men," Tim said. "Two of them overdosed on the meth you made and one of them died."

"Where's your evidence?" Rick asked combatively.

"That they were dealing drugs or that they tried to kill us?" Tony asked. "Because that last part is pretty self-explanatory."

"Did you see your attackers, Agent DiNozzo?" Elsie asked.

"Not exactly," Tony replied as he rubbed his head. "We were attacked from behind."

"So, you really don't know if Jack and Rick attacked you," Elsie said.

"Elouise," Mark said softly. With Mark using her full name, she jolted and looked at him. "Hear them out." She nodded reluctantly and turned her stern expression on Tim and Tony.

"We had just ended our interview with the Dunnings," Tony retorted. "We hadn't gotten in our car yet. So, if they didn't attack us, they didn't stop the ones who did." Elsie's stern expression faded. "And they certainly didn't prevent them from dumping us in the woods."

"And," he said evenly. "We found the dealer that sold the meth to PFC Gonzales. Eddie Green. He picked William Dunning out of a photo line-up and identified him as the supplier. He also admitted to selling William the gun that was used to kill Brian Dunning."

All eyes in the inn turned towards William Dunning.

"You're trusting a low-life drug dealer's word?" Jack said defensively. "He could have picked Will's photo at random!"

"Maybe," he replied. "But we have William on surveillance video at the bar where Corporal Dunning was last seen alive. We have video evidence of William meeting with the dealer."

"And do you remember when you thought you saw smoke?" Tim asked. Jack looked startled then tried to hide it.

"Well you saw smoke," said Tony. "You ought to watch what you say." Tony leaned in conspiratorially. "The woods have ears, you know," Tony said roguishly. "We saw you standing outside of our shelter. We heard you three talking. And we heard you saying that you had to kill Corporal Dunning because he was going to tell NCIS about the drugs you were supplying to the base."

Rick paled.

"We seem to have a problem, Agent Gibbs," Jack said. "Your agents are lying." Tim and Tony bristled at the suggestion but thankfully they kept their heads. "I'm not sure why they want to frame us."

"We have evidence," Tim countered.

"All your evidence is circumstantial," Jack said sharply, cutting Tim off. "Just because Will happened to be at the same bar as my son doesn't make him a killer. And because he was talking to a drug dealer doesn't mean he was supplying those drugs. It seems like it is your agents' word against my brother's."

"How about your words against themselves?" Berman asked. "We overheard you talking in the woods this afternoon. We followed your snowmobile trail onto your property." Jack frowned. "Will said you were the one who killed Brian. He was worried it'd be pinned on him because he was the one who bought the gun."

"I never said…" Will said weakly.

"Agent Gibbs and David, Russ and I heard you say it," Mark countered. "On that alone, we have enough to take you in."

He stood up. "But that's not all that we have." He looked to the stairs. "Ziva!"

Suddenly Kara appeared with Ziva right behind her. Kara had been crying. Her eyes were red, but she wasn't crying now.

"Kara?" Elsie asked.

"They attacked these men, Sheriff. Then they left them in the woods."

There was a moment of stark silence as those in the room took in her words.

"You'd be willing to testify in court?" Berman asked.

"Yes," she said as she looked directly at her father. "They were talking about it when they came back to the cabin. I was in the loft. They thought I was asleep, but I wasn't. When they left, I found their guns and cell phones," she said as she pointed at Tim and Tony. "Then they showed up at the cabin. I gave them food, water and blankets. They took their guns and left."

"Why you little," Jack said as he lurched towards Kara. Ziva stepped in front of Kara and Tim and Tony drew their weapons forcing Jack to stop in his tracks. The inn erupted with voices as everyone started to ask questions at once.

"Hey!" Berman said as he caught Jack by the arms.

"I can show you where they make their drugs," Kara said over the din.

"Based on the evidence, Sheriff," he said. "I'd like to take Jack Dunning, William Dunning and Richard Dunning into custody and charge them with the murder of Corporal Dunning, manufacturing and distribution of meth, assault, kidnapping and the attempted murder of two Federal Agents."

Berman nodded. "I'd say so."

"Would you like to do the honors?" he asked as he looked at Tim and Tony. They holstered their weapons.

"Of course," Tony replied as he produced his handcuffs. Tim mirrored his partner. "You have the right to remain silent, but that ship has already sailed. Anything else you say may be used against you in a court of law. We'll definitely use what you already said against you," Tony said impishly. Tim rolled his eyes. "You have the right to an attorney and you're going to need one. If you can't afford one, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as I have just informed you?"

"Yes," Jack said sourly. Will and Rick nodded.

Sheriff Berman cuffed Jack while Tim and Tony handcuffed William and Rick. He watched as Tim and Tony along with Sheriff Berman and Russ, escorted the Dunning brothers to the lockup.

As soon as the Dunnings were gone, he sat down and wrapped his hands around the warm coffee mug. The warmth and the smell of the coffee was comforting.

"That was very brave, Kara," Ziva said. "And I know it wasn't easy."

Kara frowned. "No. But they killed Brian. He wasn't just my brother. He was my best friend. And who knows how many people's lives were ruined because of that junk they cook up in the woods."

Kara looked around at the townspeople. The room had gone silent and everyone was staring at her. Suddenly self-conscious, she bolted up the stairs. Elsie turned and quickly followed her. After a moment, the townspeople started talking amongst themselves.

"You look relieved," Ziva said as she sat down next to him.

"Things could have been much worse," he replied as he sipped his coffee.

He glanced out the window at the gently swirling snowflakes and allowed himself a small satisfied smile. He had a good cup of coffee. His boys were safe, a source of drugs had been removed from the street and they had the dirt bags in custody that were responsible for the death of two marines. It wasn't a bad day's work.

He took another sip of coffee. Not bad at all.


End file.
